Mind Games
by sapereaude13
Summary: A different take on the ending of FF12. Balthier and Fran find themselves in a sticky situation while Ashe works for peace in Ivalice. BalthierAshe. Spoilers for the whole game. Thanks for reading!
1. Crash

A/N: This is my first story. Ever. I'm not really a writer, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyhow. Hope you like it, and thanks for reading!

* * *

Balthier had never had aspirations of heroism. Having spent his most recent years thieving and the years before that as a rebellious, spoiled aristocrat, he had no delusions about himself. He was a rogue, yes, but a hero? Certainly not. Those roles were reserved for soldiers and people who sought to make a difference in their world. Dreadfully dull, that. So the experiences of the past few months puzzled the sky pirate.

He'd had his usual goal of treasure in mind when he and Fran made their fateful decision to sneak about the Royal Palace of Rabanastre that night. But he was as shocked as anyone to find himself on a quest to restore Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca to her rightful throne. At the onset, treasure had been his objective, but along the way, that aspiration had fallen along the wayside. Now he was a hero in a way, having vanquished a deadly foe in Vayne Solidor. And what's more, here he was aboard a sinking juggernaut attempting to save Dalmasca yet again. It was enough to make him laugh.

But there was little time for joking, what with the crashing and the injured partner and the ridiculous judge threatening to crash right into him. He and Fran had managed to set the glossair rings to rights, and he now carried his companion through the Bahamut as it fell from the skies. That the massive vessel would crash was obvious, but at the very least, he and his partner had saved the city below from certain destruction.

Panic was not an option. He allowed Ashe to panic in his stead from the safety of the Strahl. He heard her voice echo throughout the entire ship. He enjoyed the sound of his name coming from her in desperate cries, his mind wandering to places it probably shouldn't be when fleeing for one's life. Thinking of the perennially grumpy, but lovely young monarch was not something he needed to preoccupy himself with at present. Escape pods were located at the end of the hall here…

…Or was it the other hall behind him? No matter, he thought as he tightened his grip on the injured viera. It wouldn't do to drop her while dallying about. As the ship plummeted, it began to list to the sides, making navigation through the halls more difficult. Balthier decided to take a brief respite to catch his breath.

"You are lost," Fran remarked quietly, perhaps more injured than she let on. He regarded his best friend with a wide grin.

"Surely not, Fran. But if you have a better idea, then I'd be more than happy to let you carry me about this rotten place," he retorted and resumed his pace through the ship. He would not give her the satisfaction of knowing he was in fact quite lost, although if he knew Fran, she was already well aware of their present predicament.

This also puzzled the sky pirate. He and Fran always had a set escape plan for any mission they had undertaken in the past, but in this instance, "Save Rabanastre!" had outweighed "Save our bloody behinds!" Perhaps he was really getting used to this hero business. They passed several Archadian soldiers along the way, running to and fro in extreme confusion, which didn't exactly help Balthier locate the escape pods.

A pair of soldiers appeared around the corner then and signaled to them. "Are you the Lady Ashe's companions?" one of the soldiers shouted. Balthier nodded, and the other soldier ran up and took Fran from his arms. The viera visibly stiffened in the soldier's arms, but she said nothing. The soldier hurried ahead with Fran while the one who had spoken trailed behind with Balthier. The floor shuddered greatly as the Bahamut collided with the ground beneath them.

"I would hope you know the way to the escape pods," Balthier said as he followed his partner and her rescuer. The other soldier said nothing as they hurried down the narrow passageway. It was then that Balthier noticed their uniforms. They were not of the same metal as regular Archadian armor, nor were their helmets in the same style. They were…Rozarrian in origin, he quickly surmised, but why would they be traipsing about the crashing ship? "Wait just a second here," Balthier began, but just as he was about to accost the soldier carrying Fran, the other rushed him from behind.

The Bahamut shook violently, throwing Balthier off balance. He struggled against his attacker, but the world went black as he was hit in the back of the head. The other soldier hoisted Balthier over his shoulder and followed his companion to a small ship moored at the end of the passageway. With the Bahamut crashing and sending up clouds of dust, neither the Imperial nor resistance fleets saw the small vessel pull away and rocket off into the western skies.

* * *

Ashe gripped the intercom in her hand as the Strahl flew away from the crashing Bahamut. It was all happening so fast. Vaan piloted the ship towards the Marquis' flagship, the Garland, with Penelo urging him to be careful. The intercom crackled suddenly, Ondore's voice booming over. 

"Princess, we must make haste away from the Bahamut. Have the Strahl dock in the Garland's hangar" her uncle's voice demanded. The words floated past Ashe's ears as she clutched the intercom so hard she thought it would crumble in her fist. The shattering noise of grinding metal signaled the Bahamut's meeting with the harsh desert climes and dry rocky plateaus of the Westersand. Behind the Strahl, the giant structure plummeted downward, an enormous dust cloud mushrooming upwards.

Loud…it was so loud, Ashe thought to herself. She stared ahead out the front windows of the airship as the Strahl weaved among resistance and Archadian ships alike. She could only hear the thundering cacophony of the crashing structure behind them, her thoughts preoccupied with the knowledge that her friends remained on board as it fell from the sky. How could we leave them behind to die in a wreck of twisted, burning metal?

The intercom came to life again, the Marquis repeating his message. This time the words registered more clearly with the Princess as her reverie was broken. She opened her mouth to reply over the intercom, but the horrific screaming of metal battered her eardrums. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard, pressing the intercom's button.

"We must go back for our friends. They remain on the Bahamut!" she declared, her voice trembling but with authority.

"Lady Ashe," the Marquis replied with a sternness that was more desperate than cruel, "The Bahamut crashes before us now. We can mount no rescue. Come to the Garland at once." The crashing sounds of the Bahamut faded into the background as the airship flew further away.

Basch stood up from his place at his dying brother's side. "Highness, we must do as the Marquis requests. We will search as soon as the Bahamut has settled."

Ashe turned to face the knight, seeing the anguish in his and Larsa's features. She turned back to see Vaan's determined face as he piloted the airship in Balthier's place. Penelo looked to her and smiled sadly. They had gained so much that day, but they had now lost almost as much, Ashe thought.

"Very well," she sighed, relaying her message back over the intercom. "We will join the Garland, then land beside the wreckage. We will search until we find Fran and Balthier. I will enter Rabanastre only when I am satisfied that we have exhausted every means to locate our friends."

Vaan piloted the Strahl into the Garland's hangar bay as Ashe slunk downward into the cockpit seat behind Penelo. Larsa stood and walked to Ashe's side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Lady Ashe, I am certain that they were able to find an escape pod. Sky pirates are always more resourceful than we give them credit for."

Ashe looked up at the young man, who had lost a brother but gained an empire in one fell swoop. "I pray you are right, but I will not rest until I am certain of their safety," she muttered. The ship successfully docked, and the Marquis himself boarded with his ministers. A medical team tended to Gabranth under the watchful eye of Basch and Larsa. Ashe stood and approached her uncle. "How soon can we launch a rescue party? I would lead it myself."

The Marquis grimaced. "Out of the question. Even with the Bahamut fully fallen from the sky, the site will be unstable for days. I cannot allow you to endanger yourself. I will send my own men to…"

"Unacceptable," Ashe interrupted, "We search for our friends at once. And I will not be made to sit and wait. Send as many of your men as you would like, but we do not leave our comrades behind." The princess stared daggers at Ondore, daring him to tell her no yet again. The Marquis sighed loudly and nodded. He placed his hands on the young woman's shoulders.

"The moment that my men declare the structure unsafe is the time you will leave. Dalmasca needs you now, and you may have to accept that your friends are lost," he said gently, exhaustion marking his features. The long weeks of preparation for war against Archadia had wearied him.

Ashe lowered her gaze and exited the Strahl. Ondore's crew was already preparing to land the Garland in the Westersand, while the deck crew began to look the Strahl over for damage. Penelo accompanied Larsa and Basch to the sickbay with Gabranth's body while Vaan waited with Ashe on the hangar deck.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Vaan fidgeted with a loose string on his vest while Ashe stared at the Strahl across the hangar bay. Vaan tugged at the string and began to unravel it as Ashe began to pace frantically.

"We are losing time waiting for this enormous ship to anchor itself! If we had simply turned the Strahl around…" Ashe began.

Vaan looked up from his string pulling, a sad look crossing his youthful face. "He's right though, Ashe. We have to wait. I'm sure they'll turn up and ask what took us so long. I can just see Balthier cursing me for scratching up the paint or pressing the wrong button or moving his seat, something like that."

Ashe stopped pacing and stared angrily at Vaan. She opened her mouth to deride his flippant tone, but she knew that he was just as worried about their friends as she. Her anger misplaced, she softened towards the young man and smiled. "Balthier's said all along that he's a leading man. I've wanted to smack his arrogant pirate face every time he uttered that silly phrase, but I would give almost anything to hear him say it right now."

They returned to their silence, this time more comfortable. Ashe fiddled with her wedding ring, wondering where its partner was at this moment. Vaan watched her do this, some confusion spreading across his face. He decided to change the subject.

"You know something though? It's just like you said on the Strahl, Ashe. We're free! You're going to be queen, and Dalmasca will be strong again. We've had quite a day, huh?" he said excitedly, interlacing his fingers behind his head. The Garland rumbled under their feet as it set down on a plateau in the Westersand.

Ashe and Vaan ran hurriedly to the hangar exit, eager to head out to the wreckage in search of their companions. Penelo returned, explaining that Basch would remain behind to discuss plans to return to Archades with Larsa and Ondore. Penelo was followed by a contingent of the Marquis' men, and the group set off into the hot desert to look for their friends.


	2. Search

A/N: This one's pretty Ashe-centric. Don't worry, Balthier will be back soon enough. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Dust had found its way into every crevice of her armor and burned her eyes. They had been searching the perimeter of the fallen Bahamut for three hours. The Marquis had sent fifty of his men to help go through the wreckage, and Larsa ordered several of his men under the command of Judge Zargabaath to join in the rescue efforts. Several small airships patrolled over the wreckage while teams covered the ground level.

The bodies of dozens of Archadian soldiers had been recovered, none of them alive. Several soldiers from the rescue team had already been injured by debris. Ashe climbed over a large hunk of metal, and she scanned the extent of the crash site. Jagged shards of wreckage protruded at various angles from the desert sands as the debris ranged over a large swathe of the Westersand. She was reminded of the fallen airships dotting the Ozmone Plains.

It would take days to cover even a fraction of the site, and with the number of fallen already recovered…Ashe had overheard several soldiers complaining as they scrambled through the wreckage. The princess remained unfazed, calling again and again for Balthier and Fran even as her voice grew hoarse. They had traveled to the edges of their known world and faced down countless antagonists over the past several months. A fallen ship would not be the end of them. Fran was a strong warrior, and at the very least, Ashe had never met another individual more concerned with his own self-preservation than Balthier.

At least she thought he was. The sky pirate, usually concerned only with his next treasure, had gone back to the Bahamut, and he and his partner had saved Rabanastre from annihilation. She hadn't even realized what he was doing until she heard his voice over the intercom, addressing her in his usual flippant tone. "Princess" he had said to her, "No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man. You know what they say about the leading man…he never dies."

Searching through the wreckage, Ashe prayed that he was right. She knew Balthier and Fran had been working on the glossair rings when he last spoke with her. If only she could find where that part of the Bahamut now rested! Her hours of searching had led her far into the middle of the wreckage, despite pleas from both Vaan and Penelo that she let the soldiers do so. Her friends had insisted they accompany her if she was going to put herself in harm's way.

Vaan had seen a heavy sign a few paces back that had engine schematics on it. Perhaps she was getting closer? Quickening her pace despite her growing exhaustion, she raced forward. Penelo called out a warning, but it came too late as Ashe slipped on a piece of metal, landing hard. A jagged remnant slashed her legs, and her hands had landed in shards of broken glass. Vaan hurried forward and knelt beside her. "Ashe, are you okay?"

Ashe surveyed her wounds wordlessly. Nothing a quick spell couldn't alleviate, so she struggled to her feet with Vaan's help. Penelo met up with them, catching her breath. "Ashe, you're hurt! We have to go back," the girl cried, admonishing her friend's reckless behavior. Ashe shook Vaan's arms off and hobbled forward, pulling small pieces of glass from her hands.

"I'm fine, Penelo. We can't rest until we find them. They could be trapped or hurt, and we can't just stop looking because we're tired." She resumed her cries for her comrades as Vaan and Penelo exchanged sad looks. Penelo began chanting a healing spell to lessen Ashe's injuries as Vaan followed the princess warily, joining her shouts for Fran and Balthier with his own. The trio continued in this fashion for another long hour. They had found several more bodies, but still no sign of the sky pirates.

Evening was creeping closer to the desert, the temperature cooling steadily as the minutes passed. The sun had almost fully set, and stars began appearing in the reddened sky. Vaan and Penelo were exhausted but continued trudging after the determined princess. Ashe felt the sting in her hands and the back of her legs as she continued walking. She overturned several large pieces of debris with her injured hands, but it was slow going. The dropping temperatures raised goosebumps on her arms, and she grew lightheaded from the hours of searching without rest. She had almost completely forgotten about their brutal battle against Vayne earlier that day, so preoccupied was she with her pursuit.

"Please, Ashe. We can't keep this up, and it's getting late," Penelo called from behind her. Ashe turned to face the girl, finally noticing how exhausted she was. Her braided hair was unraveling and plastered to the sides of her face with sweat. Vaan looked no better, covered in dust and sporting several cuts on his arms from moving rubble for hours.

"Penelo's right," Vaan continued, "We're no use to them if we get ourselves killed out here. Besides, you need to get to Rabanastre. You need to take charge of Dalmasca."

Ashe's eyes welled up, but she would not allow tears to fall. She knew in her heart that Vaan and Penelo were right. She had placed them in danger, and for all she knew, Fran and Balthier could have escaped and were waiting for them all along. But what if they hadn't? She let that thought trail off as she regarded her exhausted friends standing before her. This whole battle had been to reclaim Dalmasca, had it not? It would not do for her to shirk her duties when she was needed most by her people. She unconsciously rubbed the ring on her finger. "I'm the leading man," she heard Balthier's whimsical voice in her head, "…he never dies."

She limped slightly, but walked past Penelo and Vaan, heading back in the direction of the Garland. "He never dies," she muttered to herself as she trekked back. She repeated it again and again as her companions followed behind. He never dies…never dies. The leading man never dies.

* * *

Night had completely fallen on the Westersand when the princess and her friends returned. They reached the triage area set up by Ondore's crew with assistance from the Archadians. Ashe smiled inwardly as the two groups worked together so readily when earlier that very same day they had borne arms against one another. Perhaps there would be lasting peace in Ivalice after all. A medic rushed to her side as she approached. "Lady Ashe! You are injured!"

She waved the medic off, "It is nothing. I would see the Marquis immediately." The medic nodded and pointed her to where the Garland was moored. A tent had been set up, and it appeared that caravans of medical supplies and armor for the search parties were arriving from Rabanastre. She offered a prayer of thanks for Ondore's assumption of command in her absence, and a degree of guilt gnawed at her as she realized she should have taken charge and not rushed off into the wreckage.

Vaan and Penelo went to see what assistance they could provide in triage as Ashe entered her uncle's tent. The Marquis was talking heatedly with his ministers about getting volunteers from Rabanastre to search the wreckage since there was so much ground to cover. Other ministers were arguing about obtaining food, water and other supplies with merchants. One of the ministers noticed her entrance and bowed humbly before her, "Marquis, the Lady Ashe returns."

Ondore asked everyone to take their business outside, and then he was alone with his niece. Ashe reddened and looked at her feet. "I apologize, Uncle Halim. I should have been directing these efforts."

He waved his hand and shook his head. "Nonsense, were I you, I'd have done the same. They were your friends."

"You will not speak of them in such a manner. They have not yet been found, so we cannot presume they are dead!" Ondore nodded. He walked up and put a comforting arm around Ashe's shoulders.

"For now, my dear, you must allow yourself to rest. We will begin our search again at first light. And I would strongly suggest you enter the city tomorrow so that your people can see you. You have done so much for them today; I do not see them holding a grudge for your delay." Ashe looked to the floor and sighed resignedly. She allowed her uncle to lead her onto the Garland to private quarters.

She stretched out on the bunk and tried to think about the day ahead. Peace was reached in Ivalice, and she could finally take the throne that was rightfully hers. She would get to live in the Royal Palace where she grew up after spending two years dwelling in the sewers beneath it. There was so much to be done, but Ashe couldn't stop thinking about her friends. It had been hours since the crash, and they had not been in contact. But it was not befitting of her new role to dwell on the day's events; she had to instead look to the future. They were bound to turn up soon. Fran would be stoic as ever, and Balthier would tease her for worrying so much. She let her exhaustion carry her off to sleep.

* * *

Sunlight crept in through the porthole as Ashe awoke on the Garland. She finally looked to the wounds she had received in her fall the previous day. Penelo's healing had helped a great deal, but her hands were covered in small cuts from the shards of glass, and the backs of her legs were caked in dried blood. She cleaned herself up, and left the ship to approach her uncle's tent. She saw a figure inside, tall with large white ears. Could it be…Ashe wondered as she raced to the tent.

"Fran! Fran! Thank the gods you're safe, we were beginning to worry…" Ashe began, but her voice trailed off as the viera turned around and was revealed to be a member of Clan Centurio come to help rather than her close comrade. Ashe apologized profusely to the viera and approached her uncle sadly.

"We still have not heard from your friends," the Marquis began, "but our efforts have been ongoing since sunrise. We have received hundreds from the city who wish to aid in the search and to start clearing rubble out of the Westersand so caravans will not be interrupted."

Ashe nodded solemnly. "What of Vaan and Penelo? I trust they were able to rest?" Ondore nodded and told her that the children had returned to the city already to inform friends of their triumph, and to start spreading word of Ashe's return.

"Captain fon Ronsenburg…er, Judge Gabranth rather, has tendered his apologies, but he has departed for Archades with Lord Larsa. They felt it best to leave immediately to have the young lord confirmed as emperor so there would be no civil war. They left some troops here to assist our efforts," Ondore continued. Ashe knew she would desperately miss Basch's counsel, but he now had a promise to keep to his deceased brother, and she would respect that.

"Then it is time for me to enter Rabanastre," Ashe said slowly, fully realizing what this meant to her. She straightened her shoulders and met her uncle's gaze. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your assistance, and I would request that you continue to head up these efforts. I must head to the palace and address my people." The Marquis nodded and gave her hand a squeeze.

"A new time has come for Ivalice, Highness. Worry not at all about our efforts here. Go now, claim your rightful place and show Dalmasca she is finally free." Ashe smiled at her uncle's kind words and left the tent accompanied by a small retinue of resistance troops. She was given a beautifully plumed chocobo to enter the city upon, and she rode steadily towards the gates of the city. No, her city, she corrected herself with a grin.

* * *

Ashe sat alone in the large royal dining room, picking at her food. Archadian banners still littered the room, reminding her of how little time had yet passed since their defeat of Vayne the day before. The day had gone remarkably well. She was cheered by crowds of people as she entered the city and headed to the palace. Ashe was reminded of her wedding procession a few years back, full of smiling faces and boisterous musical fanfare. Ondore's doing no doubt, she thought. He had been quite busy the past two days.

Upon arriving at the palace, she addressed the gathered thousands. Ashe had not prepared anything, but she spoke of change and lasting peace and the rise of Dalmasca after its years of being conquered. She was surprised at how welcoming her people were considering she had been declared dead before and all of a sudden she reappeared before them. This gave her hope for a smooth transition of power from the Archadians to herself and a council she supposed she had better start gathering together.

But even with all this happy news, her heart remained heavy. She raised a glass of Bhujerban madhu to her lips, letting the warm alcohol trickle down her throat. Balthier and Fran had not been found after an entire day of searching. If they were indeed trapped in the wreckage, her uncle had warned her, there was very little chance they'd have survived a second day without rescue. The princess shoved the plate of food away and leaned back in her seat. She was queen in all but official title, showered with praise and given a victor's feast, but she was miserable.

Ashe had convinced her uncle to continue rescue efforts through the rest of the week. She knew he acquiesced only out of kindness, but she was grateful that he did not say as much. Another sip of madhu and Ashe allowed darker thoughts to sink in. She pictured her comrades racing for escape pods but getting trapped by falling debris. Every scenario she envisioned ended with a cloud of dust, a cry of surprise, and then silence. Another sip of madhu.

An old minister of her father's, Tylo or Lyto, she could not recall, had appeared out of the woodwork that afternoon. Years hiding in Lowtown had left the man broken, but the sight of the very much alive princess drew him out of the underground. He offered his services immediately, for which Ashe was duly grateful, and the old man also composed a list of other potential ministers that would help Ashe set up a new government. Only once the country was on solid, entirely Dalmascan-run footing could she even consider a coronation for herself. Ceremony would come later; her people's immediate needs were first.

Old man Tylo's list lay on the table beside her plate, and she truly meant to start to work on it, but she could not get her mind off of the Bahamut. She knew that if she moved so many paces to the balcony, she would be able to see the wreckage standing in the desert, a constant reminder of how close Rabanastre came to destruction. Another sip of madhu for that.

This was wrong. It was all wrong, she thought as she set the empty wine glass down on the table. She and her companions should be celebrating together this night, but instead she sat alone in a near empty palace drinking to excess. Vaan and Penelo celebrated the liberation of their country with their friends in Lowtown. Basch was en route to Archades, and her other friends were missing. Only a smattering of servants that had been in the employ of Vayne now inhabited the palace.

Ashe took the parchment in her hands and tried to seriously consider the list of potential ministers. The madhu had calmed her jittery nerves, but it also prevented her from concentrating. Her eyes met the page in front of her, but the words blurred together. Experience in financial operations…former war counselor to your lord father…devoted to ending piracy in the homes of wealthy Dalmascans…

I'll not choose that last one, she mused, thinking of how close she had become with two pirates in particular. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine them there in the dining room with her. Fran was impossible for her to conjure since she was always so quiet, but Balthier... Balthier was quite easy to imagine. She saw him perched on the table, picking morsels of food off of her discarded plate without shame.

"So sad, princess. Why, you'd think I up and died on you," the sky pirate teased as he held a cream-covered dessert in his palm. He considered the dessert briefly before taking a bite. "Rule number one of your new government, milady," he said between bites, "before you deal with trade negotiations and military budgeting and all that nonsense, you hire a new palace baker, because I've had better food cooked by dirty street urchins in Old Archades." She smiled to herself. Not only was she imagining him in the room with her, she was giving him a running sarcastic commentary!

She let her imagined Balthier continue eating while she thought of where the real one could be. In the past, it had at least been very clear. Basch had returned from Nalbina with her husband's body, his lifeless form an obvious indication that he was gone from her life. But this was not right. Living or dead, she had no idea. Trapped under rubble or flying the skies, gasping for air or munching on her supper, she could not be sure.

But she would not admit what she felt to be true, not yet. Let the search continue and let the Archadian soldiers be properly buried. She could live in denial at least another few days. That would enable her to function enough to start getting a council together. Then she could sit back a little and let others bear some responsibility as well. She felt disgusted at this train of thought, but she felt she was in the right. Her imagined Balthier hopped off the table and walked behind her chair. He leaned his arms on the top of the chair and peered down at her.

She leaned back and let him meet her eyes. "Where are you? Are you safe?" she asked him. She only received a wolfish grin in return. Ashe sighed and searched his eyes. "What are these feelings I'm having? I feel like I've lost something I didn't realize I possessed." The grin widened, but still no reply. The imagined sky pirate placed a hand on her shoulder, then gave it a gentle squeeze. What was going on with her?

"I can't believe I'm talking to myself. Tomorrow, Balthier. Tomorrow I'll make sense of this," she said, referring to the list she still held in her hand. But she knew that that was not all she had to make sense of now. She rose from her seat and headed for her bedchamber. This would all be dealt with tomorrow.


	3. Captive

Not even the worst hangovers of his life felt this horrible. Head aching, Balthier awoke on board the Strahl. Someone had seen fit to place him in his own bunk, and he sat up wearily. Something felt off, but he attributed that to the pounding in his skull. Swinging his legs around onto the floor, he sat a moment and pondered his present situation.

How did he get here? He struggled to remember. Zargabaath raving about crashing into the Bahamut, Fran injured, Ashe calling for him. He couldn't recall anything else. No matter, he thought, the leading man lives to see another day. And hopefully that day would be filled with the treasures of a grateful Dalmascan kingdom and the cheers of adoring women.

He stood slowly, allowing his body to adjust to the steady pounding in his head. Walking to the door, he tugged on the handle to no avail. Locked in one's own room? What nonsense was this? He then heard a key turn in the lock, but when the door opened, no one was on the other side.

Ignoring the growing sense of confusion and the growing pain in his head, he walked into the hallway. Seeing no one around, he headed up towards the cockpit. He was startled to find the ship on auto-pilot with not a soul in the room. He only saw blue water and skies full of large, white clouds ahead. "Fran?" he called, "For heaven's sake, who left my ship on auto-pilot? I should have never let you touch her, Vaan…"

He looked at the radar to possibly ascertain his current position. Nothing appeared on the small monitor. He sat in the pilot's chair and moved to switch off the auto-pilot. It would not budge. What was going on? It was at that moment that he heard footsteps behind him.

He swiveled around in his seat to find Ashe standing in the doorway staring at him. "Ah, Princess. What mischief are you allowing that thief to work on my ship?" he questioned her as she approached him. He was incredibly startled when the princess proceeded to sit down on his lap. She put her arms around his neck and planted a small kiss on his cheek. "Well, I must say that I'm happy to see you too, Princess," he muttered as he pondered the current state of affairs. He didn't know what would be proper conduct around royalty in one's lap if Basch happened to be lurking about, so he kept his hands to himself.

Ashe continued placing slow, gentle kisses on his cheek and said not a word. "Look, Ashe…this is all very very nice, and a wonderful hero's welcome, but if you would kindly untangle yourself from me, I'd like to know what is going on." It pained him to see the pretty young woman let go, but something was definitely not right. She settled into the co-pilot's seat across from him and stared at him. They sat in silence a few more moments before Balthier stood up and began pacing the cockpit.

"Why won't you talk to me? Where is everyone else and why in Ivalice would you be putting the royal moves on me when you should be reclaiming your bloody country?" he sputtered, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. His earlier headache forgotten, he stamped out of the cockpit and began searching through the ship. There was no sign of anyone else. He turned around to head back, almost knocking Ashe down where she now stood directly behind him.

"What is going on around here?" he yelled at her, but her face remained calm with a very small smile. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "This is madness," he muttered, but took the opportunity to return her embrace now that he knew Basch was nowhere in sight. Strange though the situation may have been, his inclination toward the affections of beautiful women had diminished not a bit.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her slightly away from him. "Ashe please, tell me what's wrong. Fran was hurt on the Bahamut, is she alright?" The princess nodded, offering the first signs of understanding him. Relieved by this knowledge, Balthier relaxed a bit. Ashe took one of his hands off of her shoulder and held it gently within her own, pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles.

Balthier was utterly astounded at the events that were transpiring. He had definitely been attracted to her during their journey, but even he hadn't been foolish enough to consider if the feeling was mutual. Kingdom first, dashing sky pirates…quite a bit further down the list. He relished the feeling of her feather light kisses against his skin, but this could not continue. He pulled his hand back and replaced it on her shoulder, slightly increasing the pressure against her.

"This is all wrong, why are you and I the only ones here?" he asked. Her eyes were aflame with what he clearly recognized as desire, but it was in his best interests to ignore that for right now. Finally Ashe opened her mouth to speak.

"We are the only ones here because this isn't real," she said simply. Balthier groaned. But of course, a dream. Nice. But why would he be dreaming when he was trying to escape the Bahamut? He remembered carrying Fran down a hallway as two men approached them…and then Ashe was pulling his head down to hers for a kiss when the piercing agony in his head returned.

He backed away from her, leaning against the bulkhead of the passageway. Hot flashing pain coursed through him as the room began to spin. Balthier fell to his knees, pressing his palms against his temples. He saw Ashe standing before him still, but her image was blurring together with the metallic walls of the Strahl's interior. He closed his eyes and made to lie down on the floor. What kind of dream was this, he pondered as he let the pain take over.

* * *

Balthier stirred from sleep, opening his eyes wearily. He ached all over as he looked upwards to see a stained plaster ceiling. A buzzing sound dominated all he heard as he raised himself onto his elbows. This was definitely not the Strahl, and the very affectionate princess he had just spent some quality time with was nowhere to be seen.

A wave of nausea assaulted him then, and he leaned over the edge of the bed. He saw a bucket had been placed there, and he let loose a thin stream of vomit into it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand disgustedly. What a way to wake up, already dirtying himself. The buzzing in his ears lessened slightly, but the nausea continued to plague him along with a piercing ache in the back of his skull. He raised his hand and fingered a small bandage at the back of his head gently, wincing as he did so. The butt of a Rozarrian rifle, no doubt.

He was unhappy to discover that his usual attire had been replaced with a simple cotton shirt and loose fitting cotton trousers. How dull! This would not do at all, and it was dreadfully itchy. An inquiry into laundering services was definitely in order. He was left barefoot, but remarkably, the princess' wedding band had not been confiscated. It now adorned his ring finger in a very meaningful fashion. Now this definitely would not do. Switching it to his other hand quickly removed any thoughts of wedding symbolism and all that that entailed. Besides, Ashe would have his hide if he managed to lose it. Rising unsteadily, he sat up and took in his surroundings.

The bed and bucket established, he saw a tiny window in one corner, a thick metal door without a handle, a rickety table and chair, and stained plaster walls to match the ceiling. A sight cleaner than Nalbina Dungeon, he mused as he fought the urge to throw up once more. The metal door was opened then with a loud creak as it scraped the floor.

A soldier clad in armor marched in, closing the door behind him. Balthier watched the soldier unlatch his helmet, and he was then startled to discover that he was in fact a she. She had closely cropped brown hair, thin lips and tired, gray eyes. The military life had prematurely aged her, he thought, noticing lines around her mouth and near her eyes. The woman was probably as old as he was, but her face made her look about Basch's age. She eyed her helmet briefly, spit on it and rubbed it until it shone to her satisfaction. The soldier set the helmet down on the table and turned to look at him, a slight smirk on her face.

"You have my utmost appreciation for making use of the bucket this time. I told them again and again that cleaning the floor beside your bed day in and day out was not a part of my job description," the woman remarked in an accent that definitely identified her as a Rozarrian.

"Glad I could make your life easier," Balthier replied with a heavy sigh, "I'm wondering what I should ask first: where I am or who the bloody hell you might be?" The soldier raised an eyebrow in amusement, but the rest of her face remained fairly placid.

"The time will come when I will answer both of those questions, but for right now, I think it's best if you lay back down and rest. Your body is reacting to the draught you were administered."

"Draught?" he exclaimed, rising to his feet, "What are you people…" he began, but the nausea and headache led him right back to the dreaded bucket where he added to the contents.

"What did I just get through telling you? Archadians. Tell them one thing, and they do the opposite to spite you. When you are done emptying your stomach, maybe you'll lay back down," the woman remarked. He gripped the sides of the bucket tightly, closing his eyes to attempt to lessen the aching in his head. When he was satisfied, he crawled back onto the bed. He leaned his meager pillow against the wall, and he lay with his head up so he could regard his new visitor.

"An effective prison technique, this draught. You need not even clap me in irons. So am I to assume I am now a guest of the Rozarrian Empire?" His visitor nodded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You assume correctly, Bunansa. You were liberated from the crashing Bahamut at great risk three weeks ago…" the woman began, but Balthier was startled.

"Three weeks?" he cried. The woman nodded again. "Three whole weeks you've kept me drugged up in this hovel?"

"The viera too. If you'll relax, Bunansa, I will tell you more. Another interruption and I may not be so forward with information." He scowled at the arrogance of the woman but waving his hand, he allowed her to continue. "As I was saying, you and the viera were taken from the Bahamut. You are now in Onzale." His ears perked up at the mention of his current inhabitance.

Rozarrians did not trouble themselves with an elaborate judicial system, rather sending any would-be insurgents and troublemakers to the edges of their Empire to prison camps like Onzale where they endured hard labor until death or worse, were never heard from again. Years of sky pirating drilled the threat of banishment to Onzale and other camps into Balthier's mind. He and Fran had usually avoided elaborate piracy in Rozarria for that very reason.

The soldier sat in the rickety wooden chair and took her helmet into her lap, eyeing it again for some imperfection Balthier could not identify. "You have heard of Onzale, then. What you have heard is not entirely without merit. But from what I have been told, you and the viera are being held separately from the rest for a greater purpose. You need not fear us. Only attempts at escape or other mischief will earn you punishment. Think of this as an extended holiday." She stood then and began to refasten her helmet.

"Wait!" he interrupted, confusion crossing his face. "Where is Fran? And maybe you'd be so kind as to tell me why we are even here? The war is over."

The woman ran a hand through her hair, her placid expression wavering slightly. "I have my orders, Bunansa. Neither you nor the viera…"

"Fran."

"Neither you nor Fran are to be harmed as of yet. Your friend still recovers from her wounds she obtained while on board the Bahamut, but she is otherwise safe. You can see that your head wound has been tended to. You will be fed twice a day if you stay on your best behavior. There will be a guard outside this door at all times, so don't force them to restrain you."

"You'll forgive me if I do not believe a word that comes from your mouth." he retorted angrily. "What of Princess Ashe? What has happened in Dalmasca?" He thought back to his very vivid dream, knowing the Ashe in the dream was a far cry from the one in reality and was probably not waiting to greet him with kisses upon his return.

The soldier sighed and regarded him with a heavy gaze. "As far as we've been told, Ashelia Dalmasca believes you to be dead." Balthier's mouth dropped open slightly, but he allowed the woman to speak. "I cannot say anything else, for I am only told what I need to know. I will return tomorrow and perhaps I'll be allowed to tell you more." She turned then and rapped loudly on the door. "Open on three!" she bellowed.

The door scraped open again with a loud clamor, and two heavily armed guards stood at the entrance bearing swords and shields. "Just rest. I am almost as in the dark as you are," the woman noted and fastened her helmet securely.

"I doubt that. You will not even give me the satisfaction of knowing your name?" he muttered.

Her voice came muffled through her helmet. "Captain Losrin of the 9th Rozarrian Legion." She then walked past the two guards, her footfalls heavy against the stone floors. The door was then dragged closed, and Balthier lay back against his pillow. He tried to let all he had just learned settle in his mind, despite his continuing headache.

What did Rozarria have to gain in holding him and Fran hostage if Ashe thought them dead? None of this made any sense. Resigned to his present sickly status, he closed his eyes and fluffed his pillow. He would ponder an escape when his body was more closely in alignment with his mind.

* * *

Three long weeks had passed since the Bahamut had fallen. Ashe, with the assistance of her new minister, Tylo Echarna and several others she had selected, worked tirelessly to put Rabanastre and the rest of Dalmasca back into some semblance of order. By some fortunate kindness of fate, several ledgers full of records had been found in the palace, and Ashe used them as a guide to dealing with the basics of governing. It was all very new to her, and she was fortunate enough to have a very loyal, wise council around her as she embarked on her role as queen.

She had yet to deal with the loss of her friends. The Marquis and the various search teams had abandoned the Westersand two weeks prior with no sign of Balthier and Fran, and her uncle had tried to suggest she begin to mourn them properly. Ashe was very unwilling to do so, even though time was catching up with her, and she was realizing just how long it had been now. Even Vaan and Penelo, in the few visits they'd paid her in the past couple weeks, had spoken of their friends fondly, but in the past tense.

Ashe made sure that Tylo kept her daily schedule full so that she wouldn't have time to really think about the deaths of her friends. The coming week saw her traveling to Archades to attend Larsa's appointment ceremony. It was her first diplomatic undertaking as queen, but she had other motivations for her travels. She longed to see Basch and get his views on what might have happened to the two sky pirates. Like herself, Basch had been declared dead when he was not, so she hoped that he might have some insight into the matter.

Although she busied herself during the day, she spent countless hours at night awake, deep in thought. She could not explain it, but she didn't feel like her friends were dead. Balthier in particular could not be dead because she saw him every night. Unlike the Occurian-induced visions of Rasler she had seen, these visitations from Balthier were entirely of her own creation. She lay in her bed at night, imagining him creeping about the palace trying to steal from her treasury or flirting with the ladies in waiting.

Her daydreams were so vivid, surely he was out there somewhere and his boundless energy was forcing its way into her life from afar. Ashe had finally just admitted to herself that she felt something more than mere friendship for the rakish sky pirate, as much as it pained her to say so. Months of journeying in close quarters, enduring his facetious behavior as well as his handsome features, and she'd been so busy with her own affairs that she hadn't taken the time to consider him as more than a friend. But his sudden loss after all they'd been through had sparked this longing within her, and surely she'd feel differently if she believed him to be truly dead. At least that's what she hoped.

Ashe was seated at a table that morning with her councilors in what had been her father's chambers. Now that independence had been achieved, dozens of Lowtown residents were petitioning to move back into the upper city, but the requests outnumbered the housing thus far. Ashe wanted all of Lowtown evacuated and enough housing constructed so that all of the people could live above ground as they had before the Archadian invasion. Her ministers argued at the cost of such a scheme, advising her to hold a lottery for above ground housing and to save her plans for another time when the treasury had rebuilt itself.

The argument had continued for hours on end, when there was a sharp rapping at the heavy wooden door. "Enter," Ashe called as she leaned back in her seat, eager for a break from the morning's discussion. An elderly man in a rich silk tunic walked in accompanied by Dalmascan guards. The man bowed to Ashe and approached the table.

"Apologies for my rude interruption, your Majesty. I am but a humble servant wishing to provide you whatever services I can," the man began with a strong accent that resembled that of Al-Cid Margrace. Clearly the man was a Rozarrian official. He continued, "I am Renot Margrace. I served your father, King Raminas, several years ago as an ambassador from my homeland. I would beg your Majesty to consider me again in this capacity as a gesture of friendship between our two countries."

Ashe glanced to the side and saw a bright smile on the face of Tylo as well as several other members of the council. Clearly, the man spoke the truth and was remembered fondly by the old regime. The princess rose and walked over to the elderly gentleman.

"You must have traveled a very long way. I would be honored to have you serve me. Dalmasca seeks friendship with all of Ivalice so that war can be avoided in future. On behalf of my country, I welcome you, Master Margrace," Ashe said, patting the old man on the arm. Tears came to Renot's eyes as the rest of the council rose to greet and embrace him. Ashe smiled happily. Finally something was going well for diplomacy in Ivalice, although she wondered if Al-Cid and his flirtations were too far behind.


	4. Questions

Several days passed, and Captain Losrin had not returned as she had promised. No matter, Balthier thought, she'd spend more time spitting on her helmet than answering any of his queries. He leaned against the wall and stared out his pitiful excuse for a window. He saw several stone structures in the distance, and gangs of imprisoned laborers marched out of them like clockwork day in and day out. A guard who had brought him food the other day had caught him staring. The soldier, Isander, noted that the prisoners toiled in a stone quarry, and that he should be grateful to avoid such hardship.

Balthier agreed with this assessment. It wouldn't do to work yourself to death in the prime of life, he thought, but his growing sense of isolation was beginning to trouble him. Every morning he awoke in this dank room with naught but a pounding ache in his head and his waste bucket for a companion. He continued to be plagued with nausea each time he awoke, which was certainly not right. But all he could remember was laying down the night before. He would have surely woken up if someone had pushed open that nuisance of a door. At least he thought he would have heard it. This place was pulling some sort of trick on him, and he did not like it one bit.

Glancing out his own window did not give him much indication of the building he himself was held in. Stealing looks past the guards when they brought his meals revealed nothing but a hallway of metal doors similar to his own. This would not do. Moving away from the window, he went to the door and pounded on it.

"Prisoner in three in desperate need of social interaction!" he shouted. There was no movement in the hallway. He called louder this time. "That Losrin woman said she would keep me company. Don't make me spread rumors of a lack of Rozarrian hospitality!" This earned him shuffling footsteps in his direction.

The door was pushed open, and Isander stood in the doorway, hand on his scabbard. A harsh grumbling came through his helmet. "What is it this time? I've already told you, Captain Losrin has been detained. You are not the only prisoner she must trouble herself with."

Balthier sat down on his bed and leaned against the wall. "Listen, you bucket of metal, I am being held against my will, but I have been unbelievably cooperative. You see I mount no escape efforts, I eat that rubbish you deem food, and I cough it up in my bucket like a nice little prisoner. I have gone days without word of my partner, or the reasons for my capture. Don't you think I deserve some answers?"

The "bucket of metal" made no move to strike him; instead he took off his helmet and looked at him. Apparently Al-Cid's sideburns were all the rage in Rozarria, as the man sported himself a fine set. He had tired eyes like Losrin and a cold expression, but Balthier knew he couldn't have been much older than he was. "You seem to overestimate the chain of command here in Onzale," Isander told him, "Captain Losrin and the rest of us only know what we have to, and that is to keep you fed, to dump your blasted filth bucket, and to let the doctors do whatever it is they need with you."

"Just a moment, what about doctors? Captain Losrin implied I was not to be harmed. I'll not be treated as a lab rat for your amusement!" Balthier exclaimed. He never even remembered leaving this room. What was going on here? His guard shook his head and sighed.

"Look pirate, I am just following orders. I have no idea what the higher ups are doing with you. You can plainly see that you're not newly injured, so I am sure they're just checking up on you," the soldier continued. Balthier could tell by the tone in the man's voice that he was telling the truth. And that troubled him a great deal further. He'd get no real answers since the man had none to give.

The sky pirate threw up his hands in disgust. "Fair enough. Could you at least enlighten me regarding my partner, Fran? She's the viera who is probably causing you all a heap of trouble," he inquired.

This time Isander had something to say. He actually cracked a smile. "Never seen one up close before, to tell you the truth," the young soldier remarked. He closed the door and sat down in Balthier's pitiful excuse for a dining area. "She got pretty banged up on that crashing fortress, but she's a tough one. My buddy down in…well, I'm not actually authorized to tell you where, sorry. Anyhow, my buddy says they have to keep her sedated most of the time. Already tried to escape, with a broken leg no less."

Balthier had to laugh at that. Fran never was one for sitting quietly and being a patient prisoner. But he thought back to Isander's off-handed mention of doctors and worried about the viera's safety. "You said I get carted off to your infirmary here," he muttered, "are they poking and prodding my friend as well?"

The guard nodded. "I guess so, but really, don't shoot the messenger on this one. I have no idea what they're doing to you because we only open the door and let them grab you." Balthier was rather irritated at the casual manner Isander had regarding the medical experimentation that was going on. What were they doing to him and Fran?

The soldier rose from his seat. "I'm sorry. I don't think we're really allowed to chat with you. Losrin and me, we aren't the bad guys. We're stationed here, and we do what they tell us. If it helps any, we thought the war was over too." Isander opened the door and looked back at him with a fairly sympathetic gaze, then turned and exited with the loud clamor of the closing metal door.

Well, Balthier thought, if anyone would help him to escape, Isander seemed like the perfect target. Breaking orders to chat, daring to apologize for keeping him prisoner? This would be easier than he thought. But he couldn't stop thinking about what was happening to him at night.

This at least explained why he was sick as a dog for so much of the day; the gods only knew what they were doing to him at night. He felt the scruff growing on his face and wished the next time they knocked him out they could at least give him a proper shave. But as he rubbed the stubble on his neck, he felt a small scab. It was very small, probably a needle puncture. He'd always considered himself a light sleeper, but they were obviously coming in at night and drugging him enough that he'd even forget them coming in.

Tonight he'd pretend to be asleep and see what game they were playing at when they came in, whoever they were. At the very least, perhaps Fran was taken to the same place at night. He missed her and was worried about her. Would the same drugs he was given affect a viera differently? He resolved then and there to take a more active role in his captivity.

* * *

It cheered Ashe to know that not all members of the Margrace family were flirtatious playboys, although Ambassador Renot's age may have contributed to that. Where Al-Cid stroked her hands and chatted her up in hopes she'd pay him a visit, Renot Margrace spoke of his family's homestead, the Ambervale, with such joy and pride that she was beginning to seriously consider a journey in the future. He apologized for his nephew's forward behavior and told Ashe not to take it too seriously.

In the few days since his arrival, the older gentleman had not attempted to meddle in Dalmascan affairs, merely offering information about how Rozarria handled this or that issue. He had asked to come along to Archades as a Rozarrian envoy of peace for Larsa's ceremony, and Ashe had readily assented. It warmed her heart to see genuine offers of peace and friendship, and Larsa had sent a message welcoming Renot as well.

The old man had gotten around Ivalice in his prime, as he apparently had dealt with Larsa's father, Lord Gramis in years past. The escalating conflict between the two nations had severed Renot's ties with Archadia, and the ambassador expressed a desire to see the capital once more before he grew too old to travel.

They now sat together, Ashe and Renot, on an airship en route to Archades along with several of her new ministers. Vaan and Penelo also made the journey, more to see their friend Larsa than for the pomp of the ceremony. "My nephew, Al-Cid, I suspect he will also be in attendance, your Highness," Renot said with a slight twinkle in his eye, "I shall do my utmost to protect you from his flirtations. Call it a desire to uphold the family honor."

Ashe smiled at the gentle old man. "I need no protection, sir, but I thank you. Your nephew, charmer though he may be, was a definite asset in my efforts to avoid a catastrophic war. You need not worry about your family's honor." The ambassador nodded and closed his eyes to rest for the remainder of the long flight. She rose from her seat to stretch her legs around the cabin.

They flew in a private craft from the aerodrome in Rabanastre. Ashe did not feel it was at all proper to commandeer an airship for her own royal use, so she paid her way the same as any other Dalmascan citizen. When her treasury was larger and her people's needs met, she would consider more frivolous expenditures like airships. She vowed that she would not be untouchable and if her very new reign was to succeed, she needed all the people's support she could muster.

Ashe walked down the airship aisle to the back of the craft. Finding a seat, she sat down and enjoyed the peace and quiet. Lately, she found herself relishing her solitude when not in council meetings or when making herself available to citizen petitions. The princess gazed out the airship window, admiring the fluffy white clouds and barely visible countryside beneath her.

She enjoyed being able to fly over the high reaches of the Mosphoran Highwaste instead of clambering over them like she had during her previous journey. Yet she wondered if she was already getting soft? It had been weeks since she'd handled a sword, and she'd definitely considered keeping in practice with a private tutor.

It was then that she finally noticed Vaan standing in front of her impatiently. "Hello? Vaan to Ashe, come in Ashe!" the young man said with a teasing tone.

Ashe pulled away from the window to more closely regard her friend who now had Penelo standing beside him. "I'm terribly sorry, I was just thinking. What is it you wanted, Vaan?"

Penelo groaned. "I told him not to bother you with this, Ashe. It's really not important." The young woman appeared to be nervous, and she was looking at her feet, looking anywhere but at the princess' face.

Vaan glared at his friend. "Well, I just thought since it's been a few weeks now that it had to come up sometime…" Penelo opened her mouth to bicker back.

Ashe held up her hand to silence them both. The privileges of now being their queen, she supposed. "I am sure it is important. Go ahead, Vaan."

Vaan briefly stuck his tongue out at Penelo to celebrate his success, but then he turned to Ashe with a more stoic expression. "The Strahl…" he began. Ashe inhaled sharply then, but said nothing. Vaan continued. "We're keeping it at the aerodrome. Nono is watching it, but Balthier said to look after it until he got back. And since he uh…since it seems he is not…"

Penelo slapped him on the arm then. "Vaan!" she cried, "Stop!" Ashe still said nothing. She decided the best answer was to ignore it, and she returned her gaze to the clouds outside the window. She heard Penelo drag Vaan away, chastising him for broaching the subject. But Ashe supposed it was due time to think about it. Although she was wary to imagine Vaan running off on adventures on his own, the Strahl was meant to fly. Dead or alive, its owner had entrusted it to the young thief.

"I do hope you'll make Penelo keep an eye on Vaan." Her imaginary Balthier sat beside her now. He had the seat reclined back as far as it would go, and he kept his feet up on the seat in front of it. "I shudder to think of my airship being used as a getaway vehicle for Ivalice-wide pickpocketing. And shoddy pickpocketing at that. The Strahl is for things like kidnapping royalty and theft of expensive and rare merchandise." Ashe let him fade into the background as she returned her thoughts outside the airship. Archades could not come soon enough. She needed to see Basch. She trusted that he would have some opinion on her worries.

* * *

Finding himself in the pilot's seat of the Strahl, Balthier sighed unhappily. He had tried to stay awake the past few nights to see where these so-called Rozarrian doctors were taking him. But every night he found himself in a dream aboard his airship, none the wiser about what was being done to him.

Fortunately for him, his royal visitor was kind enough to keep him company in these dreams. Where he had let her be quite forward with him before, Balthier was now halting any physical contact Ashe initiated. Some small part of his mind chided him, saying it was only a dream and what harm would it do for him to indulge a princess fantasy? But he had more important things to worry about. His dreams were surprisingly lucid, and the past few nights he had taken to pondering his own situation in the hopes that maybe Ashe would have some input.

She had said nothing the other nights, spending most of her time staring at him in the most pleasing fashion. He had forced himself to look away when she started with that sort of business. "So princess," he said, staring out at the clouds, "will tonight be the night you reward me with the sound of your voice?"

He heard her move in the co-pilot's chair beside him. A brief sideways glance and he realized she was only adjusting her position, not planning to pounce on him. "I could have spoken at any time, Balthier. It's your dream." She regarded him with a severe expression. "Maybe you've been too afraid."

"Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything, with the exception of a Bangaa dinner party. Did I ever tell you about that? It was a few years ago, and Fran and I had infiltrated a lovely gathering of the elite Bangaa community, and if you had seen what they served as a main entrée…"

Ashe interrupted his rambling. "You're afraid of what they are doing to you. You worry that Fran is being harmed. You worry that they are experimenting on you, and you are powerless to stop them."

"Ashe…"

"You worry that the next time you dream, I won't be here anymore," she finished. He still could not bring himself to look at her. She was right on every count. She reached across to him and held his hand. "I promise I'm not going anywhere. If you want me to be here, I will be here."

He squeezed her hand in return. "I just wish I had some idea what these Rozarrians were plotting." He gripped her hand sharply as his head once again felt like someone was beating it with a club. Every dream he had ended with this unrelenting pain, a very unpleasant wake up call that would bring him back to reality and his solitary imprisonment. He made every effort to concentrate on the feel of Ashe's smooth skin and slender fingers in his grip, but the pain soon took him over, and the Strahl blurred away into nothingness.

* * *

Larsa Solidor was pronounced emperor before all of Archades, and during the same ceremony, the young lord reinstated the Senate his brother had dissolved. The ceremony had gone without incident, and the roars of approval from the crowd assured that Archadia was back on the correct path.

Ashe stood behind the newly crowned emperor with representatives from all across Ivalice. Only the viera had not sent an official representative, but one viera who had left the Wood many years before attended to share in the momentous occasion. Ashe felt tears prick her eyes throughout the ceremony. Just over a month ago, Ivalice was in danger of destroying itself and now Ashe stood as queen and the representative of an independent Dalmasca. As the ceremony closed and the crowds dispersed, Ashe approached Judge Gabranth, although very few people knew that Basch now served in his brother's place.

"It is strange seeing you in that helmet," Ashe teased, and she was rewarded with a deep chuckle from inside the metal.

"Your highness, it is wonderful to see you." Basch removed the helmet and grinned. "I would have written to you, but there has been much work to be done here in Archadia. I am fortunate to serve Lord Larsa; he is truly wise beyond his years."

Ashe shook her head. "You have no need to apologize. Lord Larsa needed you, and besides, I've been almost as busy in Rabanastre." She then saw that Larsa's small ship was getting ready to depart the ceremony. The young man was going to make appearances in Old Archades that day to greet the people there. "Don't let me keep you, Judge Gabranth. I see your day is only just beginning."

Basch took on a more stoic expression as befitting his position, but his voice was more enthusiastic than she had ever heard it. Ashe was happy that peace had brought as much joy to his life as it had to hers. "We will meet up tonight. You are staying for the banquet, are you not?" Ashe nodded. "Wonderful. Then tonight we will talk. I cannot wait to hear of your progress in Dalmasca. Until tonight, your highness." Basch bowed and took his leave of her. Ashe was immediately cheered. She had missed Basch terribly this past month and looked forward to that evening's excitement.

Ambassador Margrace slowly walked up to her, a curious look on his wizened features. "I did not know your Highness was friends with a judge of Archadia."

Ashe realized that she had looked a bit suspicious. She wondered if Renot knew that the real Judge Gabranth was her father's murderer and that his twin now took his place. Desirous to ease his suspicions, Ashe explained how Gabranth had aided her efforts to take down Vayne in order to protect the dictator's younger brother. At that, Renot smiled. "Lord Larsa is indeed fortunate to retain the services of such a loyal knight. I apologize wholeheartedly for my suspicious tone. You can understand my concerns, Majesty. I have not been to Archades in so many years."

She smiled back at the older man. "I thank you for your honesty. Shall we retire for the afternoon? I imagine tonight's banquet will be exhausting." The ambassador assented, and she escorted him into the palace to await the evening's festivities.

* * *

Ashe felt like she could never eat again. Unlike Dalmasca's modest treasury, Archadia had much to spend for a banquet. In the past month, the young emperor had already begun to scale back the military, the funds instead pouring into local works in the capital and especially Old Archades. Of course, there was plenty available to provide the evening's entertainment. Ashe was slightly envious of the riches. Oh, for heaven's sake, she admitted to herself. She was terribly jealous. With but a fraction of Archadia's treasury she could build new homes for her people, feed and clothe them for years, and nobody would live underground again. It was hard to not be jealous of their wealth.

Dozens of Archadian gentry mingled amongst the representatives from the far reaches of Ivalice. Wine flowed freely, and laughter carried throughout the grand dining hall. Archadian national tunes floated through the air intermingled with songs from Dalmasca and Rozarria. She even recognized a rousing song from Nabradia and felt proud that her late husband's homeland was remembered.

Ashe watched Vaan and Penelo dance to the Nabradian song with a smile on her face. They had been the first ones on the floor, and their enthusiasm had drawn several others out with them. Penelo tried again and again to get Larsa to join them, but he denied them again and again with a blushing expression. As the plates were cleared and the hired orchestra began to play even livelier songs, Ashe was nudged gently by Ambassador Margrace. And not a moment too soon. His nephew, trailed by a few of his "little birds," was en route to the Dalmascan table.

Al-Cid removed his tinted glasses as he approached, a flirtatious leer appearing on his face. Ashe was not really that interested in speaking with him, grateful as she was for his assistance during the recent conflict. She would need a bit more wine in her system if she was going to verbally duel, or even grant a dance to the playful aristocrat that evening. It was then that the young man's uncle stood, blocking the way to Ashe's seat. "Al-Cid! My nephew, how wonderful it is to see you!" Ashe took advantage of the opportunity and rose from her seat. She would be grateful to the old man for this as long as she lived.

The older man continued. "My apologies for not saying hello this afternoon! How fares your lord father?" Al-Cid was flustered, and Ashe made a quick escape, suppressing her laughter. She approached the head table where Larsa sat with Basch, Judge Zargabaath, and his ministers. She greeted the young emperor and praised the evening's event. She let her eyes drift towards Basch's, and he stood up from the table then.

"Her majesty wished to discuss trade negotiations. Lord Larsa, I know you are presently occupied, and I will be happy to meet with Queen Ashelia in your place." Ashe had never pegged Basch for an effective fibber, but she knew not to underestimate him. Larsa gave Ashe a knowing look and nodded his assent. The young man returned to a discussion at the table, and Basch took Ashe's arm, escorting her to a small chamber just off the dining hall.

Basch shut the door as Ashe leaned against the wall beside him. "Trade negotiations?" she inquired with a chuckle.

The knight reddened slightly. "Lord Larsa and I have developed a very nuanced and thorough code over the past month. Trade negotiations means catching up with a friend." She laughed heartily at this explanation. He gestured to a pair of chairs in one corner with a view out to the entire city of Archades. She sat down and let her gaze drift over the tall buildings outside, small airships floating past every few seconds. Ashe turned back to her friend.

"Has it only been a month, Basch? So much has happened. Aside from speaking in code, how is life in the capital for you?" He sat beside her and looked out the windows along with her.

He sighed contentedly. "For our journey I knew only the hard ground beneath my feet and the feeling of my blade slicing through this fiend or that. I am now party to discussions of taxation policy, market pricing, and everything you could possibly imagine falling under the bureaucratic sphere."

Ashe smiled in return. It was all very new to her as well. "The true cost of peace, is it not?" she teased, and he laughed in reply. "I face the same affairs in Rabanastre, and I am fortunate enough to have several ministers who aided my father. You remember Tylo Echarna?" He nodded. "He has been a great help these past few weeks. They have all been wonderful to me. I could not have imagined this so many months ago when I lived beneath the streets of my own capital."

"You'll forgive me for my presumption, Highness, but may I inquire as to why Renot Margrace travels in your company?" Straight to the point, one aspect of Basch's personality that she had always admired.

"He serves as my gateway to the Rozarrian Empire. He has expressed a desire to serve Lord Larsa in this capacity as well. Is there something wrong with that?"

Basch had turned rather serious. "Do you trust him? You don't worry that he could be a spy?"

Ashe was surprised at Basch's question. "A spy? That old man? The war is over, Basch. It won't do to be suspicious of everyone. I understand where you are coming from, really I do. But if Ivalice is to move forward, all of our countries must be willing to be open with one another." She did not like where this conversation was headed.

"I am sorry for being suspicious. I cannot help but remember that your father was killed in the guise of signing a treaty. I worry for your majesty's safety since I cannot be in Rabanastre with you." The knight shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I appreciate your concern, and I thank you. But I had another motive in speaking with you this evening. I hope you will forgive me." Ashe was not eager to move from one awkward topic to another, but Basch was always willing to entertain her thoughts. "I seek your opinion on the fallen Bahamut and of our missing friends."

Basch was struck dumb by her question. He would not meet her eyes, instead watching the ships pass by outside the window. "Your highness," he began, choosing his words carefully. "The loss of our friends is great and still lingers with me. However, we must honor their sacrifice for the good of Dalmasca and the rest of Ivalice."

"Sacrifice?" Ashe exclaimed, rising from her seat. She stood in front of him, refusing to let him stare out the window. "How can you be so sure they are dead? We never found them!"

Basch searched her face, confusion riddling his strong features. "I beg your forgiveness, majesty, but we recovered dozens of bodies from the site. Countless others have yet to be found. Surely the odds of their survival are slim to none. And had they survived, a month has come and gone. They would have made an effort to contact us by now."

Ashe was furious. First Vaan and Penelo, now even Basch just accepted that Balthier and Fran were dead? She muttered a quick "Forget I asked" under her breath and made to storm out the door, but Basch called for her.

"I mean no disrespect, but what has so thoroughly convinced you that they are still alive?" She turned around to face him. Ashe could tell that Basch was genuinely upset with the path of their conversation, and she closed her eyes to focus.

"Basch, we have both been declared dead when we were not."

"Majesty, the circumstances are different. It was Vayne Solidor who convinced Ivalice that we were dead. You and I both saw the Bahamut fall to the Westersand. Where is the manipulation?"

His reasonable inquiries were infuriating her. "I just…I just have this feeling that Balthier yet lives."

"Balthier and Fran both you mean?" He had raised an eyebrow at her phrasing and was now incredibly suspicious. "Is there something you are trying to tell me, highness?"

Am I? Ashe thought. She blushed furiously and turned aside to face the door. "I just feel so strongly that he is alive. Maybe I began to see him as more than a friend, Basch. More than ever once I realized what he was undertaking aboard the Bahamut." She would not show more weakness in front of the knight, breathing deeply to try not to tear up. Basch rose from his seat and stood behind her.

"I fear your majesty is in denial, and I worry about you," he told her. She waved him off, but he continued. "Perhaps you need more time. I will always be here for you even as I protect Lord Larsa. I do not want you to leave Archades on unhappy terms." She turned to him and grasped his hand. He kept a straight face, but she saw a gleam of amusement in his eyes then. "For what it is worth, your highness, I cannot say I would ever be in favor of you entering a liaison with that scoundrel of a pirate."

She laughed at his remark and released his hand. Opening the door, the music and conversation drifted into the small room. Ashe turned to look back at the knight, a wicked expression on her face. "If that is your opinion, Basch, then I am grateful you are advisor to Larsa and not to me." The knight laughed genially and followed her out into the dining hall.


	5. Manipulation

A/N: Hurray! This chapter features an angst-o-rama! Then some political stuff. Then some hot stuff. Then some more angst-o-rama. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback!

* * *

Waking yet again from a dream, Balthier felt great disappointment. After his morning routine of vomiting and then spending the next few minutes grumbling about it, he put his bucket by the door and went to look out the window. He watched the laboring men depart their block and march off towards the quarry, envying their ability to walk about in the sunshine. Quite frankly, Balthier would go outside in a sandstorm if the option was made available to him.

He had now estimated that his "extended holiday" was quickly approaching two months. Every day the same, waking up with a headache and nausea and fresh needle punctures in his flesh. Balthier received periodic visits from Isander, but the man always grew quiet when he inquired as to Fran's well-being. The soldier only let on that she was being a difficult prisoner, and there were worries that the broken leg she obtained in the Bahamut crash was just about fully healed. Aside from Isander, Balthier only had one other visitor. Captain Losrin had finally reemerged about a week ago, but she had changed.

Where on their first meeting the woman had been tired, she was now exhausted. She would not answer any questions, merely saying that she would return in a week and that this time it was a promise. Balthier knew that today was probably the day, but he decided not to get his hopes up for answers if she even chose to honor her promise. He was thus surprised when the door opened, and the Captain herself entered. She removed her helmet as she had on their first meeting and set it down on the table.

"I am sorry I neglected you so much, Bunansa. Realize that my responsibilities extend to all of Onzale, and I am not ignoring you on purpose. As a matter of fact, both you and your friend Fran have been in my mind every day," she said before he could speak, sitting down in the old chair. She sported a nasty purple bruise on her cheek and had a cut lip.

Balthier sat on his bed and regarded her carefully. "I am honored to be present in your daily thoughts," he snapped, "One of the prisoners get friendly with you, Captain?"

She laughed. "Quite the opposite. I made the mistake of asking why you were being held here, and my superior officer slugged me in the face."

"Well, let me state off the record that you have just won my heart. Taking a punch on my behalf? It's clearly a love connection, my dear." She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone and stood up, gazing out the window.

"Bunansa, I've spent the past several weeks trying to understand what business Rozarria has in holding you and your friend hostage. You may not believe me, and I really do not care if you do or not because I want to know for my own reasons. But based on what I have uncovered thus far, I do not like what I am finding out."

She was growing increasingly edgy, tapping her fingers on the window pane. Balthier supposed that even mentioning these things to him was an act of high treason. He knew Rozarria did not regard traitors lightly, especially amongst its military officers.

"And what is it that you have discovered? Rozarria wants to create the ultimate sky pirate and is sampling my blood to find out what it takes? You want me to lead you to treasures unimaginable? Let me tell you, Captain, all you lot had to do was suggest a price, and we could have negotiated without all the stabbing with needles," he said, trying to put up a comical front. In his mind, however, he was thoroughly interested in what the soldier had to say.

She increased the pace of her finger tapping. "I've tried to find out what goes on in that infirmary every night. You are taken and brought back none the worse for wear…" He cleared his throat loudly in protest at that, but she continued unfazed. "Your friend, though, I think whatever they give you affects viera differently. She's become violent, uncontrollable. She barely touches her food and attacks all the guards that come in there. It takes six of my strongest men to restrain her every night, but they keep taking her in there."

Balthier was sobered by the thought of Fran being treated in such a fashion. Let them do what they like to him, but Fran was his best friend, and he could not tolerate the knowledge that she was being harmed. Some part of him admired his partner's willingness to fight her imprisonment, but he worried that it would end up getting her killed before long. "Have you found out what they are doing to us?"

She shook her head. "I cannot say for sure. They are obviously injecting you with some sort of concoction that's strong enough to keep you off your feet most of the day. I can only imagine they are trying to manipulate you in some way."

"Manipulate me? But I feel the same as I always have, well in a manner of speaking. The nausea being a delightful side effect of whatever tricks they are playing," he replied. She finally ceased tapping her fingers and stood in front of him.

"I also overheard something right before I had my run-in with my superior," she said, and he encouraged her to continue. "Now it's probably nothing, it could very well be unrelated. But I heard my commanding officer speaking with one of the doctors, and they kept mentioning Ashelia Dalmasca."

Balthier's ears perked up at the thought of some plot against Ashe. "You don't think they are poisoning me against her?"

The soldier considered it for a moment. "I do not know how they could, but you were her friend. Why would they manipulate you against her?"

"Because she is weak, and she has to die," he said before he even realized it. He covered his mouth with his hand in surprise. Losrin gasped at his remark as well.

"Bunansa, they really are manipulating you! I do not believe my people could sink so low!" Losrin went back to the table and grabbed her helmet.

"Wait, please. You mustn't leave," he said, reaching a hand out to her. The Captain stopped and waited patiently. She is weak, and she has to die? Where did that come from? It had emerged from his mouth before he knew it, and hearing such filth in his own words made him sick. He rushed over to the bucket and grasped the sides tightly. He breathed heavily, feeling vomit rise up in his throat.

How could he not control himself? And what could make him spew such vitriol against the very person he longed for every night? Remaining by the bucket, feeling very weak, he whispered hoarsely to the soldier. "Losrin, what are they doing to me? I would never want to harm Ashe…I care about her a great deal."

The woman looked sorry for him. She knelt beside him and patted him on his back gently. "Is that her ring you are wearing?" He nodded and closed his eyes as his stomach longed to release its contents. "Isander said he heard you calling for her at night sometimes. I just had a feeling."

Losrin rose to her feet and opened the door. "Balthier," she said, addressing him by his first name for the very first time, "You have my word as a Captain of the 9th Rozarrian legion that I will find out what treason is happening here in my country. We are a proud nation at peace now, not cowards who lurk in the shadows and experiment on innocent people."

For the first time, Balthier heard true honesty in the woman's voice, and he believed that she would honor her word. "And what do you suppose I ought to do in the meantime? Let them keep pumping me full of this stuff that makes me turn against a woman I care about without my consent?"

The captain looked down at him and nodded. "I suppose it is best we go about our business like we were. If we want to discover what harm is being done, I must work in secret." Balthier didn't like the idea of being further manipulated to wish harm against Ashe, but he could very well see that he did not have much of a choice. He muttered a brief word of thanks, and Losrin left the room.

He finally threw up into the bucket, sick to his very core that his mind was not entirely of his own control. Balthier remained on the floor with tears stinging his eyes until he was only dry heaving into the oaken bucket. He sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall, butting his head against it lightly in a rhythmic fashion.

Balthier took Ashe's band off of his finger and pressed the cool metal against his lips, kissing it gently. He was always the first to tease others for crying like babes, but he allowed a few tears to trickle down from his eyes as he clutched the ring in his fist. For the first time he felt that he might have been better off if he'd been allowed to die in the falling Bahamut.

* * *

"But Balfonheim Port remains within Archadian territory! Having a separate representative might cause some offense to Lord Larsa."

"I really do not think so, Tylo. The emperor knows that Balfonheim operates of its own free will," Ashe argued. "To not allow Balfonheim its own participant would surely cause the people there to complain."

"But they are pirates, majesty. Nothing but a lot of despicable, greedy thieves. Pillaging by night and drinking themselves into oblivion by day. Politicking is not something they care for," another minister rebutted.

Ashe scowled at that remark, letting the ministers continue to argue amongst themselves. Since her return from Archades a month ago, she had begun formulating a peace initiative that would be almost impossible to achieve. She longed for a council to be formed with representatives of every people in Ivalice so that conflicts could be resolved diplomatically, and every nation would have an equal say in matters. As a descendant of the Dynast-King, she longed to recreate the glory days of the Galtean Alliance in hopes that peace would last long beyond her own years.

Maybe it was not the best idea after all, she thought darkly. A tentative conference was scheduled in a few weeks, and the current discussion at hand was the guest list. Those delegations would come together in Rabanastre to consider chartering a council of peace, but Ashe and her ministers argued over the definitions of nations or peoples. The concerns over Balfonheim had raged for the entirety of that morning, and Ashe was ready to call the whole thing off. No wonder nations went to war, she mused, every little thing could be overanalyzed and argued about until you felt like stabbing the man across from you in the face.

Of course, Ashe was thoroughly committed to her peace initiative and refused to let the older men at the table trivialize her desires. She cleared her throat, silencing the bickering advisors. "If I hear another word about Balfonheim, I will run off and join their ranks myself. That discussion will be tabled until tomorrow. For now we will take a break, and this afternoon we return to our discussion about the construction of more schools in the East End. You are all dismissed."

With a bit of grumbling, the men stood up and dispersed. Ashe pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger, feeling a headache was on its way. She had to suppress the idea of disbanding her council and just organizing the conference herself, but she knew that she could never do such a thing. Renot Margrace approached her, offering her a sympathetic look.

"Your majesty aims for lofty heights. Your father would have been proud of you, and I do not doubt that even King Raithwall would look favorably upon your desires for peace," the old man said, admiration gracing his wrinkled features.

Ashe looked up at him, shaking her head sadly. "Renot, these men have never been to Balfonheim. It is not anarchy there, but a working city with friendly people and an enviable trade network."

"Friendly people who just happen to make their living in piracy?" the ambassador interjected.

The young woman sighed. "They deserve representation like anyone else. I do not know how to convince my council of that." She rose from her seat and patted the older man on the shoulder. Walking to the large window, she stared at the ruined Bahamut far off in the distance.

Pirates though they were, they deserved a say in the affairs of Ivalice just as much as Dalmasca. Ashe had been extremely prejudiced against sky pirates before, but she of course had changed her opinions over the past year.

Renot joined her at the window. "Minister Echarna fears your memories of your friends who gave their lives for Dalmasca's freedom cloud your judgment on the Balfonheim question."

Continuing to stare at the fallen structure, Ashe grinned. "And Minister Echarna worries too much about me. Because I have traveled with pirates is not why I fight for Balfonheim's inclusion. For too long Ivalice has allowed power hungry empires to lord over it, and I believe that path leads to inevitable war again and again. Landis, Nabradia…these lands are gone and were it not for the aid of pirates there would be no Dalmasca."

The ambassador considered her words. "Your majesty is ambitious, and I suspect that you will win the day in the end. But if I may, I have word for you from Rozarria."

She turned to him, glad that someone at least understood why she fought for Balfonheim. "Have they chosen a representative to attend the conference?"

"They have, highness, but I hope to not be the bearer of unhappy news. My nephew, your friend, will be participating as the representative of House Margrace." The old man winked at her, and Ashe chuckled.

"I had expected as much. He fought tirelessly to aid the resistance so I am not at all surprised that he will be the first to support my goals for peace," she replied. Having snubbed Al-Cid at Larsa's ceremony, she would now be his hostess in Rabanastre. There would be no avoiding his flirtations this time. "Be sure and send him my warmest regards. I welcome him as an honored guest of Dalmasca in two weeks' time." The old man bowed to her and left the room.

"You must come to Rozarria. I can show you the myriad wonders of the Ambervale. The gardens, the library, my bedchamber…"

Ashe grinned as she pictured Balthier behind her, attempting an imitation of Al-Cid's accent. The pirate leaned against the table, arms folded across his chest. "I never figured you for the jealous type, Balthier," she replied, turning to face her vision.

"You wound me, Princess," he said, reverting to his usual voice. "A leading man will not play second fiddle to that playboy, even if the leading man is a figment of your royal imagination."

"I would have no other leading man, Balthier," she flirted back, but stopped herself. She allowed her imagined pirate to disappear. Tylo was right; she was definitely letting her emotions about Balthier affect her. But it calmed her to imagine the witty man at her side while she went about her duties. For all his charms, Balthier had been a source of strength for her during their travels together, and whether he was alive or dead, it made her feel better to think of him.

Her daydreaming over, Ashe longed for refreshment. She headed to her chambers for a meal. The afternoon's discussions would go on for hours, and she needed all the nourishment she could get to prepare for it.

* * *

For the past several weeks, Balthier had not allowed himself to dream of Ashe. Any time his mind had started conjuring her, he got worried that he would cause her harm and was somehow able to prevent her arrival. Instead, he sat in the pilot's seat and stared out the window until he managed to wake up.

This dream found him lying in his bunk underneath the sheets. He was so comfortable, very unlike any of his previous experiences. It was now almost three months of captivity and nightly dreams for Balthier, and in that time, he had learned very little. Captain Losrin and even Isander became scarce, with new guards often bringing him his meals these days. He had received a note from Losrin the week before saying simply that she was working as best she could, and in typical no-nonsense Losrin speak, she wrote that he was to eat the note as soon as he was done reading it. The taste was not as bad as some of the food they served him.

He realized that whatever they were injecting him with was really starting to affect him. Most of the time he was able to suppress bad thoughts, but on occasion, he would think about Ashe and how she was inexperienced and unworthy of her throne. Of course he knew it all to be untrue somewhere inside him, but these thoughts always rose to the top of his mind, and he did not yet know how to tame them.

But he missed Ashe. At the same time his brain was telling him that she would be most useful to Dalmasca if she were lying dead in her chamber, his heart ached for her. He longed to hold her petite, slender form, smell the sweet scent of her hair, grasp the strong arms that held swords and bows, kiss the mouth that always had some nasty thing to say against his chosen profession. So it was in this dream after weeks of not allowing her to visit him that he arose from his bunk with hopes of finding the princess on board his airship.

He was duly rewarded. Upon opening his cabin door, he found Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca in all her glory standing in the hallway with her hands on her hips. Better an angry Ashe than none at all, he thought. "Ashe, you know why I did it."

She said nothing, only staring at him furiously. He moved forward and crushed her against himself, running one hand through her hair and letting the other caress her back. Ashe relaxed and returned his embrace. She stared up at him and leaned back from his arms. "I said if you needed me, I would be here."

"Yes, I know," he whispered, grasping her face between his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks while his other fingers rested beneath her ears, running against her neck and the base of her scalp. She closed her eyes and let him caress her, her breathing growing more unsteady. Balthier's pulse began racing. He was no novice at seduction, but with Ashe…well, his mind's representation of Ashe, he was nervous and fumbling. He tried to humor her. "You'd only have distracted me if I dreamed of you every night."

She moved her hands up and down his back as he touched her face and neck. "You're worried that you're going to hurt me." She slipped her hands beneath his shirt and began to stroke the bare skin of his back, goosebumps rising across its surface at her touch. He moved one hand away from her face and moved it to her waist, and he pulled her closer to him.

"Wouldn't you be worried?" he inquired as he tipped her chin up to look at him. "If someone was poisoning you against me, don't you think it would kill the mood a little?"

Ashe grinned at that and removed her hands from beneath his shirt. She placed them on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Does it feel like it's killing the mood?" she asked innocently. He stood perfectly still as she raised herself up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his briefly.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the fact that Ashe had just licked her lips immediately after kissing him. "Ashe, you really mustn't do that," he exhaled slowly, ignoring the warm body in his arms. It felt so real holding her; he knew he had better wake up soon.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked, running her finger over his lips while her other hand caressed the back of his neck.

He opened his eyes to look into hers again. Balthier saw a downright mischievous glint in the young woman's eye. "You shouldn't do that," he said, running his hand up and down the side of her body, "because I like it."

"That makes very little sense. You need to relax. It's only a dream after all." With that she pulled his head down to meet hers, and she kissed him gently. The touch of her lips against his was maddening. They were so soft and tasted sweeter than anything he could have imagined. He began to kiss her back then, a bit more aggressively. He wrapped his arm around her waist and cradled the back of her head with his other hand.

She pressed herself against him, and that was enough to let his brain take a holiday. His adrenaline kicked in as he pushed her roughly against the wall, kissing her frantically. Ashe cried out in surprise at this, but she only clutched at him tighter. She moaned against his mouth, whispering his name as he trailed kisses down her neck and onto her shoulders. He recaptured her lips then, letting his teeth nip her bottom lip. She really seemed to enjoy that, sighing blissfully. Balthier made a note to remember that if he ever got to conduct these activities with the real Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.

He placed his hands on her neck, stroking gently as he continued to kiss her. Ashe gasped then, and it only urged him on. If simple kissing brought out this reaction in her, he did not even want to know what awaited him if their relationship progressed further. He thought of her lying in his bunk with him, getting to touch and claim every part of her as his own. The princess gasped again, this time with a cry of pain.

Balthier released her and stepped back. Ashe slunk to the floor in agony. He saw his own fingers imprinted in deep red welts on her delicate neck, and it was then that the pain in his head began to return. He backed against the other wall and held his head in his hands. He heard her gasping and coughing as he felt the numbing agony. Feelings of shame clouded his thoughts as he gave in to the pain that consumed him.


	6. Treason

A/N: Danger! Author entering trigger happy mode. There's some violence afoot in this one!

* * *

After nearly a week of talks, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca was being hailed as a masterful negotiator, a shrewd diplomat for her young age, and a vision of divine beauty. That last remark was being circulated by the Rozarrian camp, to her embarrassment. The conference on forming a peaceful Ivalice-wide alliance had been an astonishing success.

All parties involved in the conference had come to an agreement that lasting peace was in the best interest of all Ivalice. A much larger conference was planned for a month hence to begin work on a charter for a formal organization. The opening days of that conference would be commenced with Ashe's formal coronation as queen of Dalmasca and a lavish fete to celebrate.

Although she was thrilled that her goals were becoming reality, Ashe was quickly growing overwhelmed with the amount of planning she would have to deal with over the next month. But if Dalmasca was to prove itself worthy of independence, it had to show the world what it could do. That did not make it any easier logistically, but the young monarch was greatly cheered by her people. The citizens of Rabanastre wanted to prove themselves as much as Ashe did, and volunteers offered assistance at the palace daily to help with preparations for the upcoming events.

The last of the peace conference delegates was departing the city that morning, with the Rozarrian party lingering behind for a day longer. An old and unreliable skystone in the party's airship was the official excuse, but Ashe knew that Al-Cid Margrace was lying. Throughout the week's conference he had been ever present at her side. He was the first to agree with her on every point, and frequently took his leave to kiss her hands after leaving the day's negotiations. It took every bit of willpower Ashe possessed to not slap his face, but the conference had come before her own feelings towards the rascal Margrace.

He now joined her at breakfast in the royal dining room, his ever present female attendants watching him eat. Ashe had urged the young women to sit down and eat with them, but they seemed eternally silent. She would never understand what drove these silly women to dote so tirelessly on the flirtatious Rozarrian.

"My engineer tells me that we can get a new skystone installed by early this afternoon, and we will be able to leave," Al-Cid drawled as he spread jam on a slice of bread. Ashe bit her tongue so she would not express how happy she was with this development. The young man bit into his bread, staring across the table at her with a lascivious expression. "It is a shame that my country will not be hosting next month's negotiations. I long for the day you will honor me with a visit to my home."

Ashe looked down at her plate and began prodding her breakfast around with her fork. "Well, as I have said during our many other discussions this past week, I am unfortunately quite busy. I will definitely consider an official diplomatic visit in future when things calm down in Rabanastre."

Al-Cid did not find her remarks offensive, instead smiling broadly. "I am overjoyed to continue working with you, my lady. Our countries will be closer than ever once this peace organization is founded."

"That is my hope as well," Ashe muttered, avoiding his eyes. Would he ever leave her alone? She was not looking to consort with him in any fashion, especially in the way he was probably imagining. She looked forward to the next month if only to have a break from his inappropriate behavior. Could no one else see that he was much too forward with her? The others probably wanted Ashe to marry him quickly to secure an heir, but that was definitely out of the question. In her mind, Balthier's voice joked about a dozen screaming infants with bushy sideburns and dark glasses littering her palace.

The breakfast concluded minutes later, Al-Cid raving about how much he would miss her on the flight home, et cetera et cetera, and Ashe wanting to throw him and his companions out of her palace. He departed for the aerodrome to see what progress was being made with his vessel, and Ashe was able to finally relax.

She began reading over applications from citizens for positions on planning committees for the upcoming month's events. She grinned at an application she received from Vaan. He had applied for a position as Master of Ceremonies for the fete. He listed his profession as "Airship Pilot and Aspiring Dealer in Loot or Other Merchandise quite Legally Obtained" and claimed that his qualifications for the job were "Ashe, I know you're reading this. Give me a break, will ya?" Ashe imagined Penelo's face when she discovered what Vaan had sent, and nearly doubled over in laughter. Maybe next time, Vaan, she thought, looking to the next application in the pile.

A messenger rushed into the dining room then, apologizing profusely for disturbing Ashe's privacy. "Your majesty, I am sorry to interrupt, but there is an urgent message for you from Judge Gabranth in Archades." Ashe set down the applications and accepted the scroll from the messenger, and waved her hand to dismiss him. She loosed the seal and unraveled the parchment, scanning its contents with increasing interest.

_Your highness,_

_I write with utmost haste to you, so my apologies for the terseness of my language. Two days ago a Rozarrian agent was discovered sneaking about the Draklor Laboratory in Archades. Interrogation of the man revealed an accomplice who was caught committing theft in the abandoned home of the Bunansa family. While the men refuse to reveal their employer, even under physical interrogation, one has admitted to taking documents of a sensitive nature from the home study of Doctor Cidolfus Bunansa for a waiting superior in Rabanastre. This was not the first time he had done so and admitted to smuggling documents out for the past week at least._

_I do not mean to cause you undue alarm, but I fear that Rozarria works a plot against either Archadia or Dalmasca. We recovered the documents in question from the thief, but they are written in some code known only to the deceased. Lord Larsa works tirelessly to decipher the nature of these documents, but it is slow going. I know your majesty works for peace in Ivalice, and I do not want you to arouse suspicions hastily, but let me suggest as a friend that you try to uncover the meaning of this thievery. Remember my cautions about your ambassador in our last meeting. I will send more news as it becomes available. Be careful._

Ashe crushed the parchment in her fist. When she looked up from her reading, she was startled to find Renot Margrace standing before her, a stack of papers in his arms. "Ambassador Margrace, are you aware of the contents of this message from Archades?"

The old man nodded slowly. "I received a similar message not an hour ago from a friend in Lord Larsa's council."

Ashe stood up and looked him in the eye. "Are you committing treachery under my nose in my own palace, Renot?" The ambassador flinched at her accusation.

He raised his hands up in a gesture of peace and addressed her with a sad expression. "It comes as much of a shock to me as it does to you, but you are wise to question me. This is a severe breach of trust." Ashe let him continue, but she was not going to let the man out of her sight.

"It pains me greatly to bring this to your majesty, but upon receiving this news, I sought an audience with my nephew to see what he knew." The old man looked down at the papers he held and began to shudder violently.

Ashe bade him to sit down in a chair, and she took the papers from him. "Renot, what are these?" They were pages and pages of scrawl she could not read. Complex formulas were drawn haphazardly all over the page. Some of it had been transcribed, the ink used there being fresher. Ashe saw words like 'injection', 'hallucinatory', and 'violent' written several times, but not much else was yet written out.

"Highness, I found these and many others like it in my nephew's chambers." Ashe reread Basch's note quickly. 'A waiting superior in Rabanastre…'

She called loudly for a guard. The papers began shaking in her hand as several ran in to the chamber at once. What was Al-Cid doing? Stealing secrets from Archadia? Could Rozarria be developing nethicite with the help of Dr. Cid's papers? She could not simply have him arrested. It would jeopardize the very new peace, but what if he or someone else in Rozarria meant her harm?

"Bring Al-Cid Margrace to me immediately. Do not give any cause for alarm, but I want him standing before me within the hour," Ashe ordered and the guards hurried off, although she noticed that they were extremely confused by the command. Renot sat in the chair, tears streaming down his face. She turned to him, struck by the sudden emotions of the old man.

"I serve Dalmasca, highness," he whispered, "but Al-Cid is my nephew. I pray that my suspicions are incorrect." She hoped that he was right.

* * *

Something big was happening in Onzale, but Balthier had no idea what it was. Confused guards raced to and fro about the grounds that morning, and not a one of them had deemed it necessary to bring him his morning meal yet. He had shouted for Losrin and Isander, but none of the guards so much as told him to mind his tongue.

For a country that he now knew was participating in peaceful negotiations with Ashe in Rabanastre, they looked more like they were gearing up for war. The soldiers rushing about were all armed with large guns as officers organized them into teams out in the yard. Straining to hear through all the commotion, he saw other soldiers divide up teams of dogs amongst the parties. An escapee, there was no doubt about it, Balthier mused.

His door was pushed open. Finally, some food to vomit back up. But it was not his breakfast, and he did not recognize the men who entered. There were two well-dressed men accompanied by a large group of soldiers armed with guns. The first gentleman wore glasses and was balding while the other was rather fat with a scowl.

Glasses approached him and got right in his face. "Where would she go?" he questioned, spitting the words at him.

Balthier was confused. "I beg your pardon, where would who go?" One of the soldiers moved forward then and punched him in the face. He was startled, but now had some idea who they might have been referring to.

"The viera, pirate," the fat one said, "where would that overgrown rabbit go?"

The sky pirate held his hands up in innocence. "Fran has escaped?" Glasses snapped his fingers, and two of the guards grabbed him and slammed him into the wall. Balthier was pinned in place and felt blood running down from his nose. Not broken…not yet anyway. "Look gentlemen, you have me all wrong. I've been held in here for months now without even seeing Fran. Why would I know anything about her?"

Glasses snapped his fingers another time, and a guard punched him in the side. He coughed hard, the breath rushing out of him. "I'm telling you!" he exclaimed with a wheeze, "I don't know where she would go if she was fortunate enough to escape this hellish place. You would know better than I, you're the ones programming us to hate our friends."

The fat one waved his hand, and the guards released him with one more punch to his side. He fell to his knees, coughing. They were going to hunt Fran down, and they were going to kill her, he realized. If word got out about their little torture camp, Rozarria would undoubtedly provoke a war.

Glasses knelt down and grabbed him by his jaw. "I know you are plotting something. But you are not going to succeed. Trying to turn our own soldiers against us was your first and last mistake, pirate."

Balthier was now even more confused, but he said nothing. Maybe they would just let him know what they meant instead of trying to beat information out of him that he clearly did not have. The fat one leered down at him and laughed. "Your friend Isander was foolish enough to sneak about the infirmary. Captain Losrin will let him know how Rozarria treats those who would collaborate with prisoners." Glasses released him, and the soldiers picked him up and shuffled Balthier over to the window, holding his head straight so that he could not look away.

Most of the search parties were beginning to disperse, but a crowd had now gathered around two soldiers and was chanting enthusiastically. He recognized Isander, although he was not clad in his armor. He was standing with his hands tied behind his back. The other soldier held a rifle straight at the young man's chest. "A Rozarrian tradition, pirate," the fat man announced from behind him, "The traitor's immediate superior gets to dispatch him. Captain Losrin earns a hero's honor for ridding her squad of this filth."

Balthier had begrudgingly admitted over the past few months that Isander and Losrin were the closest things he had to friends in this horrid place. And now she was going to execute him in front of a roaring crowd. He tried to show no emotion at this turn of events, but inside he was screaming. Don't kill him, Losrin. Don't do it.

With no expression on her face, Losrin cocked the gun and aimed at the young man. Her grip was steady, and Balthier could see her positioning the rifle for a one-shot kill. The Captain had promised that she would find out what was going on, so how could she murder him without even a trembling gun arm? The rifle discharged with a loud crack, and Isander crumpled to the ground. Cheers arose from the gathered soldiers. Losrin dropped the rifle on the ground, turned around and marched away without a second glance at the body.

The soldiers in the room released Balthier, and departed along with the people Balthier now knew to be his torturers. But he could not bring himself to look away from the window. He stared in disbelief as his friend's body was beaten and prodded by the other soldiers, his clothing torn from his lifeless form and thrown around in a frenzy of cheers. Such was the price of treason in Rozarria.

* * *

A guard brought Al-Cid to Ashe's private chambers. The Rozarrian prince was positively beaming. He helped himself to a piece of fruit from a bowl on her table and collapsed into a chair. Ashe stood and watched his nonchalant behavior. Even now he acted the romantic part.

"We were all set to depart, my lady, but I knew you would come to your senses. Even I must admit that I thought we would progress a bit further in our courtship before I found myself in your bedchamber, but I love a woman who knows what she wants," he joked as he munched on his fruit.

She rushed up to him then and slapped the piece of fruit out of his hand. He smiled at that, but then he realized that she was furious with him and let his face go neutral. "You know why I brought you back here," she spat at him.

He stared at her. "Surely not, your Majesty. I was preparing for my voyage to the Ambervale when one of your burly guards set upon me in the aerodrome. Is something wrong?" he inquired. Ashe retrieved the stolen Draklor papers from the table and threw them in his lap.

"What is Rozarria plotting against Dalmasca?" she asked, her voice full of venom.

"Plotting? Majesty, I have not seen these papers before, what are you trying to imply here?" Al-Cid took up the pages in his hands and began looking them over.

"If you had not seen them, then why do they litter your rooms here? I will not be surprised if they wallpaper the interior of your blasted airship!" she cried.

Al-Cid rose from his seat angrily, the papers scattering to the floor. He lunged for her and grabbed her wrists. "You would risk peace over these scribbles?" he shouted, searching her face. He tightened his grip when she tried to struggle against him. "After all this, you accuse me of betraying you?"

She called for her guards then, and they rushed in. Al-Cid released her, but a guard knocked him to the floor to restrain him. "You're making a mistake, Princess!"

"Am I?" she scoffed, staring down at him, "Bring her in." Another guard entered, this time with one of Al-Cid's little birds in metal restraints. Al-Cid's confusion grew as the young woman was brought in.

"Dhava, what is going on?" he asked the dark-haired girl. "Ashelia, what have you done to Dhava?"

The normally silent attendant scowled at Al-Cid. "You thought you could get away with it in her own palace during a congress of peace."

The aristocrat was shocked. "Get away with what? Dhava, can't you see I am being framed?"

Dhava turned to Ashe and gave her a sympathetic look. "I am sorry for my involvement in this, your Highness. You have been so kind to us. He forced us to participate in his wicked plot." Al-Cid continued his protests, but Ashe had heard enough.

"You feign ignorance even now. You fought so hard for peace, but you let your own ambitions for nethicite cloud your mind," Ashe lamented. "Let your own people deal with you."

Al-Cid was dragged from the room, the whole time screaming for Ashe to listen to him. A disgraced Dhava was hauled away as well, and they were hurried away to the aerodrome to their airship. Renot approached Ashe in the aftermath, still trembling at the recent events. "I appreciate your willingness to let Al-Cid face Rozarrian punishment for his treachery. If you had held him here in Rabanastre, it might have caused undue trouble with my country. With lasting peace so close, Highness, you have made the right decision."

The queen knelt down and began gathering the papers. "I know he is your family, Renot. But I cannot tolerate traitors, especially now." She examined the manuscript pages, wishing to understand its contents. She had not longed for the assistance of the late Dr. Cid until that very moment.

The old man spoke again, his anguish apparent in every word he uttered. "I cannot make amends to you that would ever erase my guilt, Majesty. I must resign my post here in Rabanastre. The shame for my family is too much to bear."

She shook her head. "You have done nothing but serve the people of Dalmasca since you arrived. But I would ask you one thing. Go with Al-Cid back to Rozarria. I wish for him to receive a fair trial despite his actions."

The old man nodded his assent. "I will do as you ask. My nephew is yet young; perhaps they will recognize the follies of ambition at his age. I will return for your coronation if you would have me."

She stood and grasped his knotted, wrinkled hands in her own. "I am sorry, Master Margrace. It is my hope that you will be able to return in a month's time." The old man sighed with the weight of the morning's revelations and took his leave of her.

Left alone in her chamber, Ashe sat down to compose a reply to Basch to relate the unmasking of Al-Cid's plot, whatever it was. Dhava had not been aware of what he was planning, nor about who else was involved. Peace had been so close! She felt it was best that the conference go on as planned, but she was wary of further Rozarrian plotting. Renot had promised to bring a new representative when he returned who was not a member of the ruling house of his country. Ashe hoped that it would not raise too many suspicions in the weeks to come.

Injection. Hallucinatory. Violence.

Turning the pages over in her hands, she hoped that Larsa was having better luck understanding what the Rozarrians deemed worthy enough to risk peace to steal from Draklor. "What could your father have been doing? Is this even about nethicite?" She looked up from the pages, but could not bring herself to render Balthier before her. The room remained utterly silent.


	7. Escalation

Two weeks had passed since Fran's escape from Onzale and Isander's execution. Losrin had not been in to see him, nor had there been any whisperings among the guards about their escaped viera prisoner. That at least gave Balthier hope that Fran had been able to escape successfully. Perhaps she had gone to Rabanastre to tell Ashe what was going on, but he had his doubts. He knew what Losrin and Isander had related to him, but had Fran been privy to similar information? Besides, since she'd been given the same indoctrination as he, perhaps she was en route to commit some dastardly deed?

Balthier received one meal a day from a different guard each time, and that was on good days. The week before, he had been forgotten for two days in a row. He'd had to beg for water. What had obviously not been forgotten were his scheduled infirmary visits. After the two doctors had seen him that one day, Balthier realized that they were changing what they were doing to him. He no longer felt ill during the day, but he now realized that he was missing time.

He first noticed this a few days ago. Upon waking up that morning, he distinctly remembered watching the usual activities in the prison yard. He recalled the shuffle of the chained workforce as they embarked on their daily punishment. He had to have been standing there for some time, but the next thing he knew, he was sitting down on his bed like he'd never been at the window.

And he had blood on his hands.

He had examined himself for wounds, but there were none there. What were they making him do? He had a very good guess, and it worried him sick. His dreams about harming Ashe were just a prelude to the real thing happening. Whatever they were injecting him with must turn him into a blasted puppet, malleable enough to commit any act they ordered and then once he regained his own mind, he would have no memory of having done so.

Would they drop him in Rabanastre like nothing was wrong and just let him kill Ashe? Would he be able to stop himself? These questions plagued him every hour, but at that moment he was granted a reprieve as he heard commotion in the hallway. There had never been a lot of other noise in the months of his captivity, so something significant had to be going on.

He pressed his ear to the door and heard the muffled conversation going on in the hallway. The guard who had brought him his meal the other day was telling some visitor that the prisoner was screaming about conspiracy and Ashelia Dalmasca, so they moved him to this block to separate him from the others. Someone else was being held here, Balthier reasoned, and maybe he would know what was happening in Dalmasca.

Balthier continued to listen as the visitor spoke up. The voice clearly belonged to an older Rozarrian man, but he did not recognize it. And the man was furious. "I don't care whose son he is! He is a traitor!" he was screaming at the guard, "Your incompetent staff allowed him to spew his lies around other prisoners! Your orders are to take the traitor into the yard and kill him. Immediately."

"But my lord, he is your own family. Surely a trial is…" the soldier protested, but Balthier heard a loud slapping sound. What in Ivalice was going on? He heard the soldier open another metal door and some shuffling. Whoever was being taken out of that cell had been gagged because Balthier could only hear mumbled sounds of protest. The prisoner was dragged down the hallway.

The sky pirate moved to the window to see them drag the prisoner to the yard. Balthier was shocked to find it was Al-Cid Margrace being brought out to the same spot where Isander had been murdered weeks earlier. He was distracted then by his own door being opened. Captain Losrin entered and shut the door behind her. She hurried to the window and stood beside Balthier.

"I vowed to serve the Margrace family, and now they butcher one another. No better than the Solidors," she muttered. Balthier stepped away from her and looked at her critically.

"The same way you killed Isander?"

She looked down at her feet. There was then the loud blast of a gunshot, and Balthier looked back to see the Rozarrian prince collapse to the ground. He had never cared much for the young aristocrat, but seeing him bleed to death mere yards away made his stomach turn. The two stood in silence as his body was dragged away like a common criminal, and he shuddered at the sight. His visitor spoke softly, clearly affected by the upheavals in her country.

"There is much for me to explain, Balthier. I want you to know right away that we have not been able to recover Fran yet. And I do not think we will, because I was the one who set her free." Balthier's eyes widened with this revelation, and he allowed her to continue. "Isander got caught in the process. I ordered him to search the infirmary for clues of what they inject you with while I let Fran escape."

"You let him get captured and then you pulled the trigger on him."

She nodded. "He believed as much as I that what they are doing to you is wrong. He knew the risks of my orders that day." She smiled then with tears brimming in her eyes, "Isander said that he was proud to uncover this conspiracy, and if he was discovered, he felt honored that I would be the one to execute him. He was true to me to the very end, not revealing my own involvement in this treason."

Balthier let her words sink in as he moved to sit on his bed. "I worry that all your efforts may be for naught, Losrin. They are escalating their treatments. I am losing hours of time each day now. Do you have any idea what they are making me do?"

Losrin sat in his chair and held her head in her hands. "You are taken out every day for what they call tactical training. Well, that is what the guards are told. But with what you and I have uncovered, it is obvious to me that they are preparing you to assassinate Ashelia Dalmasca."

He looked to her then, urgency in his voice. "You cannot let me get out of here, Captain. They will probably smuggle me to Rabanastre. Promise me you will keep me in here," he begged.

"But you will die here. You just saw what they did to a member of their own royal family. Once you outlive your usefulness, they will do the same to you."

"Then let them!" he cried angrily, "They are stealing my life away from me as it is! I'm not going to kill Ashe!" With that remark, she was out of her seat and across the room before he even realized it.

She slapped him across the face. "What has gotten into you, Bunansa? You are not the irritating pirate I encountered several months ago. Stop this self pitying and take charge of your situation!" He scowled at her, and she went on. "Look, we do not know what will happen if you stop receiving these altering draughts from the doctors. Perhaps the effects are temporary and you will recover. I can get you out of here and to a safe place until you are healed."

She was right, Balthier admitted. He needed to confront his situation, not resign himself to it. "How soon can you spring me from this awful place?"

Losrin considered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose we just missed our best opportunity with the execution out there. But I do know that Ashelia Dalmasca hosts another peace conference in two weeks' time. If there was any time they would send you to commit some hideous deed, it would be at that conference."

"I saw the search parties Fran garnered with her escape. I fully expect a manhunt a thousand times grander. You may not be aware of this, my dear Captain, but I am the leading man."

She grinned. "About time that arrogance returned. Emotional outbursts and crying do not suit you. Believe what you want, pirate, but everyone is the leading man of his own story." She rose then and made to leave. As she opened the door, he called to her.

"Then allow me one last emotional outburst. Thank you for saving my pirate behind. I promise to make some attempt to save yours someday. If there's time. And if I'm not too terribly busy treasure hunting." She shook her head at his remarks and exited the room.

In two weeks' time, Balthier thought. Then this can all be over.

* * *

Larsa Solidor rarely admitted his weaknesses. But that evening at dinner in his chambers, he confessed to his most trusted official that he was at a loss. And Basch could do nothing about it. For the past month since the break-in at Draklor, the young man had spent all his free time trying to decipher the writings of a madman. But what he had discovered made very little sense.

Basch watched his young charge with concern as he poked at his food. Every other minute he simply stopped eating to look once again at the stack of papers in front of him. Finally, Basch leaned across the table and snatched them away from him. The young emperor protested. "Judge Gabranth, I was just beginning to follow along with those pages Lady Ashe sent to me. You will give them back."

The knight shook his head. "You are not sleeping, my lord. You do not eat and you are delaying important matters of state. I cannot have you jeopardizing your well-being over these papers. We depart for tomorrow's coronation in hours, and you will need to rest during the flight." Just days after he had sent his message to Rabanastre, he received a reply from the queen. Al-Cid Margrace had been caught in the possession of other items nabbed from Draklor. Ashe had forwarded the papers on to Larsa in hopes that he could reconcile them with the other stolen items.

To keep things quiet, Al-Cid had been spirited back to his home, and Ashe was going to have a new representative in his place at the conference. The official excuse for the Rozarrian prince's absence was to be illness and no one other than Ashe's cabinet and now Larsa's would know what occurred. The latest word from Renot Margrace, who had just recently returned to Rabanastre from the Ambervale, was that Al-Cid was being held under house arrest pending a full investigation by Rozarrian authorities.

Larsa frowned, deep in thought. "Clearly there is a dangerous plot afoot in Rozarria. With the coronation and peace conference upon us, I must do my utmost to make sure it can continue as scheduled." Basch sighed and slid the papers back across the table. "Thank you. Now what I have determined based on the original documents I analyzed and now those from Lady Ashe is that Rozarria must be developing some sort of brainwashing method. Dr. Cid only jots down instructions for creating a liquid to be administered in these papers. It is obvious that nethicite was his main obsession at Draklor. This must have been a side project that held little interest for him since it lacks much detail."

Basch considered Larsa's explanation. "Who would Rozarria need to brainwash? Do you think they are indoctrinating their citizens to be spies? Perhaps they are planning to infiltrate the peace conference with sleeper agents."

Larsa shook his head. "I wonder if that is the true motive. I am still distressed at Al-Cid's involvement in this plot. I truly thought I knew him. Perhaps he sought to overthrow his own government and become its leader. Turning people to your side is much easier when you have a potion to do it for you."

An aide entered then. "Sorry to disturb your dinner, my lord, but there is a woman here with urgent word from Rabanastre." Larsa told the aide to send in the visitor, but both he and Basch were startled by the person who entered the room.

Though considerably thinner and clad in a dark hooded robe, the distinctive white ears with black markings clearly identified her. Larsa stood up in disbelief. "Simply extraordinary! Is it really you, Fran? How is this possible?"

"There is no time, Lord Larsa," the viera said evenly, walking up to the table. "There is something terrible happening in Rabanastre."

"How fares the queen? What is going on?" Basch inquired, watching Fran's every move. It was then that he noticed that there was a strange emptiness in her eyes. Before he could react, the viera had picked up a knife from the table and started slashing at Larsa.

The young man was struck in the throat, and he staggered away in surprise from his attacker. Fran lifted her arm to stab him again, but Basch tackled her to the marble floor, wresting the weapon from her hand. She struggled beneath him, and he was forced to strike a blow on her skull. With the wild viera subdued, Basch shouted for assistance as he approached the young emperor.

Larsa's eyes were wide as he clutched his throat with both hands. Blood trickled through his fingers as he looked to Basch with a very confused expression. The knight picked the young man up and raced him from the room. "Lock that viera in the dungeon and leave her there until I say otherwise!" he cried to all the dumbfounded guards in the hallway.

Guilt clouded Basch's features as he hurried the young lord to the palace doctor. He only hoped that he would be quick enough to save his charge. The time to consider Fran's reappearance and behavior would come afterwards.

* * *

Balthier sat with Ashe in the cockpit of the Strahl as it floated over the sea of clouds. He had had dreamless sleep as of late, with only his escape from Onzale dominating his thoughts. Well, what thoughts of his own he still possessed. His days were now full of blanks. Hours gone from the morning, half the afternoon flitted away, perhaps time for supper before he was waking up in his bed at the start of a new day.

That isn't to say he hadn't tried to make some progress at filling in those blanks. Concentrating very hard in one afternoon, he had repeated the phrase "Stay awake" over and over for a solid hour. The next thing he knew, he felt his body moving out of his control. He felt himself stabbing someone, blood spattering all over his clothing and face. He realized that he was practicing his new assassin trade on helpless prisoners. He could not make himself stop, but at least he could now see the horrors of his indoctrination for himself. When he regained his own conscious thoughts, he had punched the walls of his room angrily until his knuckles bled.

"The coronation is tomorrow. How do you suppose they'll have me kill you if Losrin fails to get me out of here?" he asked Ashe sarcastically.

She turned to him and smirked. Her neck in his dream still bore the red welts he had inflicted upon her in their last encounter. A constant reminder of the threat he was to her well-being. "Well since you are not going to be killing me, I do not find it worth discussing. A scoundrel of a pirate you may be, but you are not a murderer."

He laughed darkly. "Tell that to the poor chap I gutted the other day."

She searched his face sadly, placing a soothing hand over his. He intertwined his fingers with hers and looked away from her, choosing the peaceful clouds in the sky over her anguished features. "But you're getting stronger. You can make yourself see what is happening when you are under the potion's influence. If you can gain more control over your actions, maybe you could at least make some sort of commotion or warning."

"Bunansa…"

Balthier stared at his and Ashe's hands.

"Bunansa, wake up!"

Ashe pulled her hand away. He looked up to her, begging her with his eyes to forgive him for anything he might do to her. She smiled at him and faded away.

"You fool of a pirate. We need to get out of here!" Balthier stirred, finding Captain Losrin standing over him. She was out of uniform, clothed all in black with only a small dagger in a belt tied at her waist. Balthier had to admit that where she had looked menacing and powerful in her armor, she now looked tiny and almost childlike. But as young as she now appeared, her determined face was all the armor she needed. She had been shaking him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Better than a clucking cockatrice, you are," he muttered, sitting up. She pulled him to his feet.

"They are coming!" she whispered loudly. The soldier shoved a change of clothes and a pair of boots into his arms. "Hurry and put these on."

"These colors are all wrong for me," he protested, but she rolled her eyes at him. She moved to keep watch out the window and to give him a measure of privacy. He quickly changed, throwing his prison attire aside in disgust. As ready as he was going to be, he allowed her to drag him from the room and down the darkened hallway.

"I've cut power to the building," she explained as they hurried down the hall, "I only hope it will give us enough of a distraction to get you away from here." He wished fervently that she'd chosen some other deception as he collided with the walls repeatedly.

They emerged into the night, the crisp air cool against his skin. The stars in the sky and the meager prison lighting were their only guide on this moonless night. Balthier had no idea where they were going, but he was being rushed past the other prison barracks home to the quarry gangs. He had never seen beyond them, and they entered a dense wooded area.

As they raced through the trees, branches scraped against his face and arms. An alarm began blaring behind them and large floodlights drowned the skies with bright illumination. "Hurry!" Losrin cried over the noise, "The prison has a small aerodrome just past the clearing ahead." The sound of barking dogs added to the clamor of the screeching alarm, and Balthier felt he had never run so fast in all his life.


	8. Tonight

Ashe couldn't sleep. Her coronation was hours away, but she could not bring herself to rest. She paced her room, reciting the speech she had prepared over and over. It's going to be real now, she thought, I will be Queen, and there's no turning back.

She walked over to her mirror and watched herself speak.

"My beloved people…" She shook her head.

"Citizens of Dalmasca, I come before you now as your queen…" She pressed her hands against her face, and they were clammy with sweat.

"I am now your Queen, and as such, my first proclamation will be…"

Releasing a heavy sigh, she went back to her pacing.

* * *

Throat bandaged up, but stable, Larsa Solidor was trying to get Basch to leave him alone. The knight had not left his side for two hours while the doctor stitched up the wound in his neck. The palace physician remarked on just how lucky the young emperor was, since the wound was deep but had not cut anything vital.

Larsa could not speak, but his eyes urged Basch to leave. The young man finally gestured for a scrap of paper, and he wrote "Interrogate Fran. Where is Balthier?" Basch shook his head, refusing to leave his side.

The young man rolled his eyes in annoyance and continued writing. "Ashe in danger. Peace conference today. Send warning." Basch finally assented and rose to fetch a messenger. He wrote a quick message about Fran's attack on Larsa and sent it off in one of the fastest airships in Archades.

The knight then descended to the palace dungeon where the unexpected prisoner awaited. Basch did not relish the thought of interrogating his friend, but what had happened to the viera? How was she still alive and why was she trying to kill Larsa?

* * *

They were almost to the end of the woods. Just after the clearing, she had said. Balthier's body ached from running continuously since escaping, but the barking dogs that were in hot pursuit made him continue. Losrin's dark clothing made her nearly blend into the surroundings, and he had almost lost her a few times.

He could see the trees beginning to thin ahead of them, and they slowed down their running. Balthier looked ahead, seeing nothing but an empty field. At the far end there was a bunker, she told him, and beneath that was an underground launch station. Maybe a few hundred paces between where they stood now at the edge of the woods and a bay full of airships.

Losrin urged him to follow her, and they emerged from the woods. Just a little farther, he thought. Suddenly, an airship floated above them, shining a bright light over the clearing. Other lights were switched on, flooding the field with illumination. It was over. Both he and Losrin raised their hands in surrender as a group of soldiers surrounded them. Ashe, I'm sorry, he thought as Losrin looked down in defeat.

* * *

Ashe descended the stairs to reach the carriage that would take her through the city for a parade before the coronation. She had not gotten any sleep, and she had spent most of the morning snapping at the young attendants dressing her. Her speech was still a work in progress, and she knew that today would be one of the most important in her country's history.

She emerged from the palace, and she had almost reached the carriage when Renot Margrace hurried over. "Highness! News from Archades!"

* * *

Glasses and the fat one were positively beaming with the discovery of the escapee and his collaborator. The soldiers marched them over to the airship bunker. Glasses walked behind Balthier, taunting him the entire time.

"The effect you have on our military is remarkable, pirate. But I'm afraid you have more important business to undertake today." Balthier's hands were placed in restraints, and he was held by two burly soldiers.

The fat one nodded, and another group of soldiers pushed Losrin against the wall of the bunker. Looking amongst them, Balthier saw regret in all the soldiers' eyes at their superior's seeming betrayal. But unlike the tumultuous excitement he had seen with the deaths of Isander and Al-Cid, this time they did not appear to relish what was about to happen. The rotund gentleman addressed Losrin. "Since your superior is not currently present and we have an urgent need of your friend, Captain, how about we forego the usual theatrics?"

Losrin met the torturer's eyes, and Balthier saw that she was unafraid. "It is a disgusting tradition. And you are more a traitor to Rozarria than me or Isander." The soldier beside her reluctantly punched her in the jaw, but she continued, spitting blood on the ground.

"You manipulate innocent people to murder so your own hands aren't sullied!" This time she received a blow to her stomach, but she would not show weakness. "Rozarria weeps for your cowardice!"

Balthier could not take it. "Losrin, stop this! You're not going to convince them of anything." He turned to Glasses, fury written across his face. "I forced her to let me out, she has done nothing. Let her go!"

The fat one spat in Losrin's face and stepped aside. The entire group of soldiers cocked their weapons and took aim.

* * *

The carriage made its way through the streets of Rabanastre. Ashe waved to her people with a smile on her face, but in her heart she was deeply troubled. Ambassador Margrace had related the sad news of Larsa's illness. The young emperor had been struck with a terrible fever, and he would be forced to miss the coronation and fete. She hoped he would be able to attend some of the conference, but Renot noted that Judge Gabranth had not mentioned anything about that. She would think more on that later.

Arriving back at the palace, she climbed to the balcony overlooking the enormous crowd and took a deep breath. One of the kiltias from Mount Bur-Omisace crowned her, and she recited the Dalmascan royal oath to the cheers of the gathered citizens. After reciting her pledge, she turned to address her people.

"Citizens of Dalmasca," she cried, "today is one that will enter the annals of history. Not only do I have the honor of being crowned your queen, but I have the privilege of opening a conference of all the peoples of our world. We stand together as we did so many centuries ago in the time of the Dynast-King. Today we renew the hope that King Raithwall created so many years ago: for peace to be the rule and not the exception in Ivalice."

* * *

Balthier met Losrin's eyes as she enjoyed her final moments. He asked her forgiveness, but she shook her head. The Captain of the 9th Rozarrian Legion winked at him and stood up straight against the bunker wall and smiled.

"I will gladly lay down my life to protest the evils being committed in my country. What I do is right, and the gods will reward me."

Balthier would not look away this time. The Captain spat out another mouthful of blood and nodded knowingly to the soldiers around her.

* * *

"It is my hope that creating an organization devoted to order and fairness will usher in a culture of unity, dedicated to preserving a free and happy Ivalice for our children, their children and countless generations to come. The road ahead of us is arduous. How are we to determine a policy that will make everyone happy? I think this is impossible. But it is my hope that a spirit of peace will lead to compromise and goodwill…"

* * *

Fran was curled up in one corner of the chilly dungeon when Basch reached her cell. She heard him approach and muttered something quietly.

Basch narrowed his eyes. "What say you, Fran? Speak up!"

The viera raised her head to meet his glare. Where before her eyes were muddled, they now were clearly full of guilt and anguish. "Basch? What have I done?"

He gripped the prison bars tightly, amazed at her audacity. "What have you done? You have appeared after months of being dead and have attempted to assassinate the emperor of Archadia!"

She lowered her head. "I am sorry. I have been poisoned against the young lord. I was powerless to stop myself."

The knight considered her words. Perhaps she was telling the truth and the Rozarrian theft of Dr. Cid's documents was for this purpose. "Where have you been all this time? And what of Balthier? Does he yet live?"

"I feel as if I am emerging from a dream," Fran replied slowly, "I have no idea what has happened. All I can remember is the Bahamut..."

What if Rozarria was training sleeper agents, he remembered telling Larsa. Then Fran was manipulated to kill Larsa and Balthier was to…

Basch raced from the room. "No one speaks to her!" he told the guard outside the dungeon. "No one is to know she is here, and no one goes in that room unless I am here with them, understand?" The guard nodded, and Basch hurried back to the messenger he had consulted earlier.

"Sir, I delivered your message, and we just got back, but it's the strangest thing," the messenger said. Basch told him to continue. "Well, we handed off the message to one of Lady Ashe's own ministers, but as we were flying away from the city, we could see the parade start like they didn't even care! So we tried to get them over the radio, but it's almost like someone's blocking out all incoming transmissions to the city."

* * *

"For too many years we have lost our friends and loved ones to senseless wars waged because of greed and ambition. I have seen too many die so that one country can dictate terms to the rest. It will be this way no longer. All the peoples of Ivalice will participate in this council. They will have a voice and that voice will be heard!"

* * *

The sound of gunfire pierced the air as Captain Losrin slunk to the ground. Balthier could do nothing as they left her to die beside the bunker. He would never forget what she had sacrificed for him, but it had been all for nothing in the end. He had a hood placed over his head and felt himself being dragged down below into the hangar, the smell of fuel and oil filling his nostrils.

He was brought into a ship and forced to lie down on a hard bunk. He could hear Glasses and the fat one's voices muttering about the fete and that "Master Margrace would take care of everything from here." Balthier was confused, having seen Al-Cid die before his eyes weeks ago. He had no time to consider what was happening as he felt a cold wad of cotton rub against his neck, a sharp pinch, and then he felt nothing at all.

* * *

Basch urged the pilot to make haste. He paced back and forth in the tiny airship cabin, thinking of what was now at stake. After conferring with the messenger, he had gathered a small retinue of soldiers he trusted and took them along. He knew what bringing an entire battalion to a peace conference would look like to the Dalmascans.

"How soon before we are able to make radio contact?" he asked as the small vessel raced towards Rabanastre. The pilot said it would still be a few hours. The knight thought of how easily Fran had gotten access to Larsa. A sudden appearance by Balthier would be more welcomed by Ashe than scrutinized if she had not received his message. Basch did not know if he had a few hours to spare. "Then we increase our speed to maximum, now."

The pilot protested. "But Judge Gabranth, sir…the ship will not be able to withstand maximum speed for the rest of the flight. It will fly apart!"

Basch punched the bulkhead. "Then you will fly it apart!"

* * *

"Look to the fallen Bahamut. See in its ruins the wars for power and what destruction they leave behind. Citizens of Dalmasca, I ask you to join me in promoting peace and understanding. Only if we stand together and set petty squabbles aside will we truly attain peace. I thank you."

Ashe stepped away from the balcony, and the cheers from the crowd were almost deafening. The queen smiled widely and after spending several minutes waving to the spectators, she retired to the palace to prepare for the evening's fete.

Minister Echarna was waiting for her as she entered. "Tylo, has there been any further news from Archades about Lord Larsa?"

He shook his head. "No, Ambassador Margrace said we had only received the one message. But there have been some disruptions in our communications today. It may just be a malfunction. It's been so hot this month, highness. Perhaps the equipment is overheated."

Ashe nodded in agreement and went to change for the evening's festivities. She viewed herself in the mirror, the crown on her head an obvious reminder of her now official role. If only all of her friends were able to see her at this moment. The moment they had all fought for so many months ago. She gazed at the ring she still wore on her finger, not so much now for Rasler, but in memory of the one who now wore its partner, wherever he happened to be. She shook the unhappy thought from her head and got dressed.

* * *

Evening fell on Rabanastre. The desert heat abated, ushering in cool breezes. The air felt cool against Balthier's skin, but he knew he did not want to wake up and face the evening ahead. He knew he was in her capital city, and he knew precisely why he was there. He opened his eyes, noticing that on the flight they had given him brand new clothes, eerily similar to the get-up he'd worn the day of the Bahamut crash. A cruel joke if he'd ever heard one. He was to kill Ashe in his dapper pirate garb rather than as the scruffy prisoner.

A throat was cleared across the room. Balthier sat up to see an older gentleman smiling at him. "Welcome to Rabanastre, Master Bunansa. Tonight you will be the guest of honor." He recognized the voice immediately.

"Al-Cid's murderer. How charming." The old man smiled wider at the recognition. Balthier stood and surveyed the room. No decoration, just several crates and stores of food. "You have got to be daft, old man. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have me in the cellar of the Royal Palace!"

The old man nodded. "Keep your friends close…you know the rest. Archadian proverb and all that." The gentleman blocked the door, but he looked frail. Balthier only had to get past him and then he could find Ashe.

"If you'll kindly step aside, I believe there's a monarch I need to be warning," he said and moved to strike the old man. To Balthier's surprise, the man snatched his arm and twisted it behind his back. His strength was incredible.

"The old man's no threat, eh?" The man landed a blow to the back of Balthier's head, and held him down on the floor with a knee on his back. "I would have preferred you to go quietly, but since you must make a fuss."

Balthier squirmed on the ground. "I'm not going to kill her!" He felt the old man rubbing something cool on his neck, and he felt the prick of a needle. Where before he had immediately blacked out, he now felt incredibly alive. He felt like there were insects crawling beneath his skin, an itching sensation that he could not scratch.

The old man released him, and Balthier could feel the poisonous injection coursing through him. In his mind, he was fully aware of what was going on, but as the next few minutes passed, his body numbed and only his brain seemed to function. He could not cry out in protest, although he felt as if his head would explode from the screaming he was doing inside of it.

Balthier got to his feet against his own wishes and dusted himself off, even taking the time to adjust his shirt cuffs. His mannerisms were perfect. Nobody would mistake him for anyone else. The old man opened the cellar door and beckoned to him. "Come along, pirate. We have a wonderful announcement sure to cheer the queen's heart. The hero of the Bahamut has returned!"

* * *

The airship shook violently as it rocketed towards Rabanastre. They had entered radio contact range minutes ago as they emerged into the Estersand, but so far they could only hear static.

"Judge Gabranth, there is no getting in touch with the aerodrome, the palace, anyone. I doubt we'll even be able to signal our approach and acquire a berth at the aerodrome," the pilot muttered, struggling to keep his ship in one piece.

It had been a nerve wracking flight for Basch, knowing that Ashe was in danger, and he could not reach her. "We will not be mooring at the aerodrome. We land at the palace."

The pilot gaped at him. "Surely not, my lord. Security is incredible, what with all the honored guests and diplomats. It would be mad to rush in like that, they'd shoot us down!"

"Then we signal them with our lights. A distress call. Play it off like we have to land or we'll crash right into them." The pilot assented, but Basch could tell that he was nervous. He hoped that he wasn't too late.

* * *

"I don't care if she's our friend, Penelo. If I had been the Master of Ceremonies, they would be playing better music!"

Balthier felt like he was drawn to the chatter as his body worked its way forward down the palace hallway. He spotted Vaan and Penelo gossiping outside the ballroom. They hadn't changed a bit these past few months, although they were dressed to impress that evening. The critic in Balthier chided Vaan's gaudy vest with its numerous ruffles, but at least Penelo had opted for a billowy gown that was more suited for the occasion.

Yet even as his mind acknowledged his friends, he wanted nothing more than to run as far away from them as he could. But his body continued its forward motion, and it was at that point that Penelo noticed him.

"I can't believe it! Balthier!" the young woman squealed in excitement. She slapped Vaan's arm to get his attention, and then she raced over and embraced him. The pirate felt himself hug her back, and Vaan merely gaped at him in awe. The older gentleman walked up behind him.

"Ah, Miss Penelo will hopefully not ruin the surprise for her Highness," he said, and the children nodded. Balthier was incredulous at his friends' automatic trust in this man and in his own appearance when by all accounts he should be dead.

"We will chat later," he heard himself assure Vaan, and then they all walked to enter the ballroom. Balthier tried to focus all his energies into some means of distracting Vaan or Penelo, but they merely smiled at him, surprise and joy crossing their features.

The guard at the door granted them entrance. Penelo put her arm through his and pulled him forward into the room. Dalmascan colors hung from the ceiling, and banners from the other nations of Ivalice were draped on the walls. An orchestra played a lively waltz, and hundreds of guests were engaged in a traditional Dalmascan court dance.

It was then that he saw her. Although he saw her in his dreams, nothing had prepared him for being able to see her in person again. Ashe wore an ornate crown and wore a long blue dress decorated with pearls and jewels on the bodice. She was dancing happily with one of her guests, probably a commoner from his simple clothing. He relished the sight of her, twirling about the room with a smile on her face. Balthier saw how truly happy she was, and he wanted nothing more than to escape.

The song ended, and the old man called for the attention of the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen! The hero of the Bahamut! Balthier Bunansa is alive!" he called. Immediately the room erupted into wild cheers and applause.

But to the guest of honor, he heard nothing but a dull roar in his ears and saw the Queen's eyes meet his own from across the room. He saw tears appear in them, and he tried desperately to signal her. His body would not respond as Ashe raced across the room and threw her arms around him.

The crowd cheered louder, but he was able to hear her tearful whispering into his chest. "I knew it. All this time, I knew you were alive."

Balthier felt his arms wrap around her and pull her tightly against him. Every impulse in him wanted to warn her. All he was able to do was lean his head down and whisper into her ear. "Princess, we have to talk. Alone."


	9. Reunion

A/N: There's more violence in this one. This was difficult for me to write, so hopefully it's not too horrible!

* * *

After a very shaky landing in the palace courtyard, Basch and his small cluster of soldiers ran out of the airship. Almost immediately, a larger group of Dalmascan guards surrounded them. 

"Judge Gabranth!" their leader cried, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Her Majesty is in danger! I must go to her!" he responded, trying to push his way forward, but they kept him back. "Someone is trying to kill her, I have to stop them." The guards were perplexed.

"There are guards in the ballroom, my lord. No harm will come to the Queen this night. Please, do not make a scene. It does not bode well for the peace conference," the guard argued.

Basch was running out of ideas. "Look, just let me go alone. I will not be satisfied until I can speak with the Queen myself."

The guard reluctantly waved him ahead without the Archadian soldiers, and Basch hurried into the palace. He heard wild applause from the floor above him. Balthier must be receiving a hero's welcome, he thought darkly as he rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

* * *

Never in her wildest dreams had Ashe prepared herself for Ambassador Margrace's sudden announcement. Balthier was not only alive, but he was there in the flesh. Her daydreaming brought back to life and dressed like he had the day she had lost him. She had rushed across the room and thrown her arms around him, not caring one bit what everyone thought. He was back, and it didn't matter who knew just how happy she was to see him. 

He had smiled and returned her embrace, so she allowed herself to believe that he might have missed her just as much. But where in Ivalice had he been and how had he survived the crash? She had opened her mouth to begin asking these questions when he had leaned over and whispered into her ear. She had never come close to imagining the true sound of his voice in all these months, and the warmth of his breath against her had sent tingles down her spine. It was truly him.

He wanted to see her alone? In the middle of her coronation ball? A crowd had gathered around them, cheering at the arrival of the sky pirate. It was well known by now in Rabanastre how he and Fran had gone back into the giant structure to save the city. Ashe tried to think of a way to get out of the ballroom without causing suspicion, but just then Renot saved her the trouble.

"Let's give her majesty and her friend some space. Come on everyone. Mind your own business now. You too, Master Vaan, come along now," the older man ordered, trying to corral the guests away from the Queen and the pirate. Ashe realized that she was still hugging him, and she hastily stepped away from Balthier and cleared her throat.

"Penelo," she addressed the girl, who was positively beaming at the pirate's reappearance, "Balthier and I have some things to discuss. We shall be upstairs in my chambers. We will be back shortly."

The girl nodded, and took Vaan's arm and led him away. Vaan had not stopped his gaping since Balthier had waltzed into the ballroom, cool and collected as ever. Ashe knew some part of the young man was disappointed because the Strahl would now return to its rightful owner.

"That doesn't sound at all suspicious, Princess. I'll just take the pirate up to my bedroom, Penelo. Have a lovely evening," Balthier joked as she took his arm, and they left the ballroom. The guards nodded as they passed, and they walked up the stairs.

Ashe could feel her cheeks reddening as she marched up the stairs arm in arm with Balthier. After all these months of imagining him, it was so strange to feel his firm, muscled arm held in her own. They had never been this close, but maybe that would be one of many topics they would have to discuss. She shot a sideways glance at him. "From now on, you would do well to address me as Queen," she teased.

He put his other hand over his heart. "As you wish, your highness. I wouldn't wish to cause you offense. But as I recall, I have yet to be compensated for kidnapping you so many months ago."

She laughed, enjoying how easily they slipped back into their casual bantering. They reached her sitting room then, and she dismissed the guard. It was a total breach of protocol, but what was the protocol when the man you cared for appeared out of thin air?

Balthier walked into the room and took a look around, admiring all the various trinkets that adorned the room. She closed the door and leaned back against it. Their eyes met, but neither made a move. "It's been months, Balthier. You ever heard of sending a note?" she asked with a smile.

He looked down at his feet then sheepishly. She was then surprised that he seemed to struggle with an adequate answer to her question. He would not meet her gaze. She moved away from the door and approached him, trying to read the expression on his face.

"What is it? Is Fran alright? We've been worried sick about you. With the Bahamut crashing, we had no idea if you survived." She placed her hand on his shoulder, begging him to look at her.

"Princess, I…I'm sorry. I have a…" he stumbled over every word. She could see something in his eyes, but she just could not identify what it was. He had been so joking and lively just a moment ago. What was going on? He continued stammering. "I have a request…"

She squeezed his shoulder in encouragement. "It's so good to see you, Balthier. Anything, just say the words, and I will do what you ask. Within reason of course. You may not have free access to my treasury, but aside from that I will see what I can do for you."

He met her eyes then, and what she saw there surprised her. Balthier's face was fairly calm, but his eyes. She saw terror in them, unspeakable fear. "Ashe, I need you to do something for me," he whispered.

She moved her hand from his shoulder, cupping his cheek. "What? Tell me."

He closed his eyes, and she saw him struggling. He raised his hand to hold hers against his face. His breathing was heavy, and sweat appeared on his brow. His lips moved then, but she was startled by what they said.

"I need you to have me arrested. Right now."

* * *

Basch had argued his way past several guards, and he had finally gained access to the ballroom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as the guests danced merrily around the room. He moved through the crowd, apologizing over and over as he bumped into several people in his rush. Seeing the royal throne at the other side of the room unoccupied, he scanned the crowd behind him, straining for any sign of Ashe. It wouldn't help to raise a commotion; he simply needed to pull her aside and warn her. 

"Basch!" he heard from behind him. Vaan of course. He turned to see Penelo elbowing the young man as they raced up to him enthusiastically.

"Judge Gabranth," Penelo said pointedly, glaring at Vaan, "You will not believe who we just saw!"

"Balthier is here?" he queried, and the girl nodded excitedly. "Where is her majesty?"

Penelo frowned and exchanged a glance with Vaan. "Well, they were just here, but I think he had something to tell her. They just went upstairs. Is something wrong?" Basch had already set off to head towards the exit and the stairs, and Vaan and Penelo followed him in curiosity.

"He is not who he appears to be, Penelo. We need to make haste," Basch muttered as he hurried through the crowd. Vaan plagued him with questions, but he heard nothing but the orchestra and the laughter of the guests.

* * *

Ashe smiled. "Arrest you? For what? I do not think you have committed a crime by not contacting us. I consider it more of a personal slight than anything else." 

In his head, Balthier was screaming. It had been the struggle of his life to utter those words, and she thought he was just teasing. Well, he admitted to himself, it would not be at all out of character for him to behave in that manner. He felt his hands grasp her shoulders, and he fought the urge to yell at her. Not like he could anyhow. The sky pirate concentrated, fighting the demonic poison flowing in his veins.

"I'm serious, Ashe. Call your…call your guard back, please," he stammered. Her eyes narrowed then, and she pulled away from him.

"You abandon us all with no word of what happened, and now you come back so you can toy with me? I have more important matters to attend to. You will be rewarded for saving Rabanastre in due course, but if you are only here to tease me, then you are mistaken." She glared at him, and then she turned and opened the door, asking him in no uncertain terms to quit her sight.

He knew exactly how this was going to end up, and he tried pleading with his eyes, but his body was still out of his control. In seconds he was across the room, slamming the door and pinning the Queen between the door and himself. She looked up at him angrily, but for the first time he saw a hint of fear in her eyes. Gods, he did not want to do this. He felt his hand reach down behind her, throwing the lock on the door.

"What do you think you're doing?" she growled at him. Her breathing was heavy, the fear in her eyes mixing with something he recognized from his many dreams over the past few months.

Oh Ashe, he thought, I'm not trying to ravish you. Call your bloody guards, woman! He felt his hands grip her face, and he forced his lips onto hers roughly. Why does it have to be this way, he pondered, feeling her respond in kind. His hands moved down to stroke her neck. It was happening like it had before.

He felt her hands on his chest then, and then a very sharp pain on his lips. She had bitten him! He didn't know whether to congratulate her or slap her, but she took advantage of his distraction and shoved him off of her with all the strength she could muster. She turned to fiddle with the lock, calling finally for a guard. But his body could not allow her to escape the room. He felt himself grab her violently, pulling her away from the door and back into his arms. As she struggled against him, he was able to mutter "I'm so sorry. I don't want to do this."

She screamed louder, using every bit of power she possessed to scratch and punch at him. His body wanted to strike her, but he managed to convince himself to let her go. Ashe raced to a table, snatching a vase of flowers and throwing it violently at him. He allowed it to smash against him, but he continued to advance towards her. He admired her ability to fight back, but something inside him hurt to see the fear and hatred in her eyes directed at him.

The queen was rushing about the room frantically, calling again and again for her guards. Balthier could hear pounding at the door then, and he was relieved to hear Basch's voice calling through it. "Your majesty! Open this door immediately!"

Ashe was backed against the opposite wall now, and she flung everything she could find at him, screeching at the top of her lungs. He got closer, and she was able to slug him in the jaw. That would definitely hurt, but he deserved that and a thousand more for what he was to do.

"Get away from me! You're not Balthier!" she screamed, holding her fists in front of her face, ready to strike.

He could not bear to hear her words. He deflected her strong punches, reaching forward to squeeze her throat with his hands. Balthier could feel tears falling from his eyes as she continued to fight him, battering his chest with her fists. He was able to choke out some words as he strangled the woman he cared about.

"But it is really me, Ashe. I'm sorry." Her eyes widened with the truth of his words, and she continued with her beatings, but she was weakening with the exertion. He could feel the soft skin of her neck beneath his fingers, could feel the life pulsing there as she struggled against him. It made him sick.

The door behind them was forced open, and he felt a whoosh of air rush into the room. Balthier felt a strong blow to his back, and he could feel Penelo's hands pulling at his arms, desperately trying to get him away from Ashe. Basch wrenched him away from the Queen and threw him to the ground, pinning him there with Vaan's help. Balthier could only see the ceiling of Ashe's room, his head spinning. He heard her coughing, and nothing could have ever sounded sweeter to his ears. She lived.

He heard the metallic clang of armor as guards raced into the room. Balthier was hauled to his feet, and he felt himself shaking violently. Only seconds more and he could have killed her. Four pairs of eyes looked to him with alarm, confusion, anger. His friends had every right to loathe the sight of him. The guards started dragging him out. He looked to Ashe, holding her throat and coughing, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Fight this, he urged his mind, fight this and tell her. "I've been manipulated!" he cried as the guards pulled him away from her, "The old man…find the old man! I'm sorry….Ashe, I'm so sorry!" The guards hauled him out of the room and down the stairs.

He saw the surprised looks of guests mingling outside of the ballroom. There must have been quite a commotion. Many stared in surprise as the guards dragged him past them and away to the dungeon of the Royal Palace of Rabanastre. A cell was opened, and he was thrown inside. Balthier was shaking, and he could feel the effects of the poison wearing off, his body returning to his own command. As soon as he gained total control of himself, he punched the walls of his prison cell in anger.

"I'm sorry," he cried, his knuckles splitting and his blood spattered on the harsh stone of the dungeon wall. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry," he muttered as he punched, finally collapsing on the floor. He held his head in his hands, and felt like he could vomit.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But would it ever be enough?

* * *

"Ashe, we need to get you to the palace doctor," Penelo argued. The Queen had dismissed all but her friends and Minister Echarna from her quarters. She was sitting in a chair, a blank expression on her face. Vaan was pacing nervously, unsure of what he ought to do, and Basch awaited Ashe's decision. 

The knight had briefly explained the incident in Archades with Fran and Larsa, and he believed that Balthier had been subjected to the same brainwashing and should not be held accountable for his actions.

Penelo held Ashe's hand, urging the young woman to say something. Since her attack, all Ashe had said was for her guards to find Renot Margrace and have him detained. After that, she had been seated, saying nothing while her friends worried about her.

Finally, Ashe spoke, but her voice was strained after her ordeal. She could still feel Balthier's fingers squeezing the life from her body, could feel his hands roughly touching her. "Vaan, Penelo. I thank you for your help. But right now, I think it is best that I speak with Basch and Tylo."

Penelo released Ashe's hand with a firm squeeze, and she and Vaan departed. Tylo stood before the Queen, anger crossing his features. "Majesty, it is absolute chaos in the ballroom. I am sorry for what has happened, but I feel it is necessary that we postpone the conference."

Ashe looked to him and shook her head. "No, absolutely not. The conference will continue."

Basch knelt before her. "You were almost killed. We must conduct an investigation into Rozarria's activities. Allowing them to remain here as honored guests when they plot against you is unthinkable."

"It is not all…" Ashe coughed violently, still straining to retain the full use of her voice. "It is not all lost. We will talk to Renot, and we will make him tell us how deep this conspiracy goes. It cannot consume all of Rozarria."

"Majesty, he has lied to you from the start. How are we to trust anything he says?" Tylo interjected.

She sighed. "How am I to trust anyone? I welcomed him to my court as an envoy of peace, and for months he has played that role perfectly. But now his plot unravels before us, so all is lost. He will talk to us." Ashe rubbed her neck, the skin there sore from abuse. She thought of Balthier joking with her before he attacked. Playing the affable pirate role when he was set to kill her. How am I to trust anyone when no one is what they seem to be anymore?

Basch exchanged a glance with Minister Echarna before proceeding. "Your highness, I suggest we at least wait a day before convening the conference. Let Minister Echarna take care of things. In the meantime, allow me to interrogate that traitorous fiend."

"He is right, majesty. Please allow me to serve in your stead. The participants will understand your absence. Then we can consider action against Rozarria," Tylo added.

"Action against Rozarria?" Ashe said in surprise, looking between the two men. "Do you even hear yourselves? We host a conference of peace and speak of war at the same time?"

"Something must be done," Basch replied, meeting her confused gaze. "You are still in shock, and you cannot think clearly. What has been done is an act of war against both Dalmasca and Archadia. We cannot let it go unpunished."

Ashe stood then, clenching her fists. "You have no idea what I am thinking, Basch. We interrogate the prisoner and learn the names of the conspirators. We will take it up with the Rozarrian delegation so justice can be done and war avoided." She turned to her minister. "Tylo, I trust you will work something out for the conference proceedings for tomorrow. Rozarria is to be included as any other."

"But your majesty," Tylo interrupted.

"I have made my decision. Basch and I will uncover the meaning of this treachery. We cannot let this destroy what we have worked so hard to achieve these past few months, Tylo."

The older man nodded and took his leave of the Queen. Ashe did not envy the negotiating Tylo would be doing for the next several hours. She looked to Basch then.

"We will speak with Renot now. He knows he has lost," she said, looking down at her feet. "Basch, I don't know how to thank you for what you did. If you hadn't…"

"Later, majesty. We do not need to discuss that man right now," the knight said, a scowl clouding his features.

Ashe frowned. "It wasn't Balthier's fault, Basch. Or Fran's. Please, let's just go to Renot now." She turned and headed for the door. It was getting very late, but Ashe knew that her night was far from over.

* * *

"You allowed your own nephew to be implicated. You turned one of his own trusted attendants against him, and then you turned me against him as well," Ashe said sadly. She and Basch were now in Renot Margrace's chambers. The old man had been subdued by the guards and placed in a chair with restraints on his wrists and ankles so he could not flee. 

They had been asking him questions for over an hour, but he had been less than forthcoming with information. The old man had merely smiled at them for the majority of that hour, only remarking that he had nothing to say. Ashe brought her hand down on the room's wooden table in frustration. "You let Al-Cid get captured and he now sits in chains while you continue to mastermind this entire operation!"

"He does not sit in chains, Ashelia," the old man replied with a chuckle. Ashe then realized how much the old man had lied to her. Everything he had said was another manipulation. Al-Cid had just been in the old man's way.

She sank to the floor in realization. "You let him die."

"Oh your highness, I am not responsible for all the ills of this world. You let him die as much as I did." Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how easily she had convinced herself of Al-Cid's guilt. During his visit he had been irritating, but he fought for peace and had been a true ally. She had been so very wrong to doubt him.

"Majesty, do not let him distract you," Basch urged, fixing the old man with a glare. "You will tell us who else is involved in this treachery."

Renot smiled wickedly, the pleasant demeanor he had demonstrated over those many months vanishing. Ashe sighed in frustration, and Basch beckoned her to join him in the hallway.

When they were clear of the room, Ashe threw her hands in the air. "He tells us nothing! For all we know, Rozarria has even more plots in progress against us!"

Basch met her gaze. "We need to change our tactics, your Majesty."

Ashe's eyes widened. "You mean torture?" The knight was silent, merely confirming her suspicions by saying nothing. "No. Absolutely not, never. Basch, we are not having this conversation. It makes us no better than them!"

"They tried to kill you and Lord Larsa," he interrupted, "Why should we be so merciful?"

The Queen glared back at him. "We are not torturers."

Basch was undeterred. "He will never tell us anything unless we force him."

Ashe considered his explanation. Renot Margrace had played at friendship while he murdered his own nephew and poisoned her friends against her. Did he deserve to be physically harmed though? As all Ivalice gathered to charter a council of peace, could she sanction such brutality? But if Renot and his collaborators were truly a danger to the world, wasn't it her duty to protect her people?

"How were traitors interrogated in the military?" she whispered, incredulous at her own willingness to move forward with Basch's suggestion.

He responded to her gently, understanding the difficult position Ashe now faced. "There are several ways. Whippings, breaking bones, using arcane magicks, water torture…"

Ashe wanted to cover her ears. "Those are all horrific. He is an old man, Basch."

"And he would happily see you murdered," Basch argued, "Do not think of him as the kindly old ambassador because it was nothing but falsehoods. You must treat Renot Margrace as a threat to the safety of Dalmasca.

She was still unsure. "This isn't right. This is not what we do."

The knight placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We do this so that evil can be stopped."

Ashe looked down at the floor in shame. "But at what cost to ourselves?"

Basch had no response to that. Her friends had been tortured for months, but was it right for her to respond in kind to the mastermind of such a plot? What did that say about her? She had been able to resist the Occuria's manipulations, and she allowed the Sun-Cryst to be destroyed. She had not sought bloody revenge. Now would she be so easily swayed into taking her vengeance?

Finally Basch spoke. "Then allow me to inflict the punishments, Majesty. I would see justice done. For you and for Lord Larsa."

Ashe sighed. "This is not justice, Basch. Justice is a trial and a sentence carried out for his crimes."

"And what of Al-Cid? Was that justice?"

It wasn't, Ashe reasoned. She had stood idly by, allowing that wretched old man to turn her against a friend. She bore some responsibility for Al-Cid's death, and the one who had caused it should be punished. She resolved then that she was within her right to go through with Basch's plan. But she could not simply make it a common act.

"Very well. I will allow you to select the method of…interrogation. But I will not shirk my duty. If a man is to be tortured in my country, then I will see it done. I will not wash my hands of this decision." Basch nodded, and he sent a guard to obtain a large tub of water.

Ashe followed Basch, two guards and the means of interrogation back into Renot's room. The old man's vicious countenance was amused at the sight of the water tub, and Ashe vowed that this was the last time she would ever allow that man to smile in her presence.


	10. Aftermath

Balthier sat alone on the cold floor in the palace dungeon, enjoying the stinging sensation in his hands. He would probably regret it later, but it just felt right that he should feel pain after his miserable display earlier that evening. He heard protesting voices outside of the room, and the door was opened.

He looked up to see Vaan and Penelo enter the room. Metal bars stood between him and his friends, and it appeared that the two young Dalmascans were happy because of it. Vaan spoke first, anger dripping from every word. "You could have killed her, Balthier. What is wrong with you?"

Penelo looked equally hurt, but she seemed to be more understanding than her friend. "Is it true what you said? That someone manipulated you?"

Balthier met Penelo's eyes and nodded. "Fran and I were held by Rozarria. They injected us with something that turned us against Ashe."

Vaan's expression softened slightly. "All this time? You were there all along, and they were doing this to you?"

"Since the Bahamut, yes. I was one of their guests of honor. And now here I sit in yet another prison. I can only hope that Ashe will dispense with me quickly," he muttered in reply.

Penelo gasped. "No! If it wasn't your fault, Ashe won't have you executed. She knows that you were poisoned!"

The sky pirate laughed. "The fact remains that I tried to murder the Queen of Dalmasca in her own bedchamber. The law doesn't say anything about the killer not really wanting to go through with the crime."

"Ashe will bend the rules then! She cares about you!" Vaan replied. Penelo nodded in agreement. The young woman knelt down at the bars, holding her hand out in comfort. He reached for her and grasped her hand. She finally noticed his bleeding knuckles, mingled with the grit and grime of the dungeon walls.

"Oh Balthier, what did you do to yourself?" she said quietly. She made to begin a healing spell, but he waved her off.

"Save yourself the trouble, let me bear some responsibility for my actions here," he argued.

Penelo groaned and rolled her eyes at him, regarding him with a look of annoyance she usually saved up for Vaan. She began chanting the spell anyway, his wounds closing up and the sting in them lessening. Vaan decided to change the subject. "The Strahl is still in good condition. Penelo and I haven't done anything to wreck it, I'll have you know."

Balthier grinned. "I find that hard to believe. If I do manage to survive this night without summary execution for treason, don't get it in your head that the Strahl is yours for keeps."

Penelo squeezed his healed hand. "Do you know what they poisoned you with? Has it worn off for good?"

He thought about that. It was a good question. They had switched up whatever they were giving him over the course of his stay in Rozarria. The side effects changed, the resulting behavior had changed. He felt perfectly fine at present, but who knew if it lay dormant in his system?

"I suppose that would be for a doctor to decide. Gods only know what effect it had on Fran. Has she resurfaced?" he questioned.

Vaan and Penelo exchanged glances, neither of them wanting to discuss something. Vaan finally spoke up. "Fran tried to kill Larsa. Basch just told us up in Ashe's room when they were bringing you down here."

He was in shock. Fran had been set loose weeks ago, but she had still been under the manipulative draught's effects even now. "How are they? Larsa and Fran both?"

"Basch said Larsa will make a full recovery," Penelo explained, "He said that Fran was being held in Archades, but he didn't say more than that."

"Larsa won't do anything to her. I'm sure she's just as confused about everything as you are," Vaan added. Balthier sighed in relief to know that both the young man and his partner yet lived. He longed to be free of the dungeon so he could see Fran again. It had been months since they had spoken, and he missed her desperately.

Penelo released his hand and stood then. "We should probably be going, Balthier. It's really late."

Balthier stood and regarded them both. "I appreciate you two coming to visit. I've gotten used to spending most of my time with myself these past few months."

Vaan interlaced his fingers behind his head, his usual pose of confidence. "Don't worry, Balthier. We'll get you out of here. We can talk to Ashe for you."

Balthier thanked them again, and they departed. He sat back on the floor of the dungeon, leaning back against the metal bars of his cell. He was surprised at how easily the children forgave him. He only hoped that Ashe might be able to show him the same courtesy. The sky pirate closed his eyes, his body finally realizing how late it was. He hoped that Ashe had gotten the full story out of the old man.

* * *

The guards pulled Renot up out of the tub, water splashing wildly onto the floor. Basch's interrogation technique had greatly loosened the old man's tongue. He had thus far given a great many details about how he had involved his nephew in his plot. Al-Cid's little bird Dhava had been a plant from the beginning, and she had communicated all of the party's encounters with Al-Cid back to Renot while they fought to reclaim Ashe's throne months before.

The Queen frowned at the knowledge that Al-Cid had been a pawn all along, just as she had. It made her ill to think of family turning against itself so easily. But something had not made sense to her throughout this interrogation. The old man was held back in the chair by the guards, water dripping from his crinkled face and body.

She approached him and looked him straight in the face. "How did you come to abduct Balthier and Fran? How could you have known they would have gone back to the Bahamut that day?"

The old man's eyes never left hers. "Serendipity, Ashelia. Our plans all along were to take your friends, yes, but it was to be after the battle against Archadia. There was bound to be confusion, so we thought there would be an opportunity. Luck had it that they leapt right into our waiting arms during the battle itself, so we just moved up our timetable."

Basch was unsatisfied. "You regale us with details, but you have yet to name your collaborators."

Renot would not break his eye contact with Ashe. "You have your father's assassin, this Landisian filth do your dirty work?"

Ashe scowled. "Don't change the subject."

"Oh, my apologies," he continued, moving his gaze finally to Basch. "For you are not really the assassin of King Raminas. You are his brother, the coward. How many men did your brother slay, coward? How many did he kill as he played lapdog to Vayne Solidor?"

Basch's patience was snapped then. He shoved the guards aside and pushed the old man into the tub of water furiously. "You know nothing of my brother!" he shouted, holding Renot beneath the surface. A flurry of bubbles rushed to the top of the basin, and the old man struggled against him.

Ashe watched this for several seconds, unable to move. Finally, the noisy thrashing of the old man was weakening, and she found her voice. "Stop it! Let him breathe!" she cried. Basch did not stop, continuing to hold him under the water. Pain was etched across his features at the mention of his brother. Ashe was terrified at Basch's behavior, so out of control and foreign to her. It made her blood run cold.

Finally Ashe grabbed Basch's arms, trying to loosen their grip on Renot. "Basch, let him breathe!" she screamed, tears springing to her eyes. He finally relented, staggering away from the old man. Renot sputtered and coughed, wheezing heavily as the water dripped from his face onto the floor. The guards moved back to hold him in place as Ashe grabbed Basch's arm and dragged him back into the hallway.

She looked at him angrily. "This is not getting us anywhere, we must stop!"

Basch was shocked at his own behavior, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Highness, I am sorry. I apologize for letting my emotions get the better of me. But we are making progress with him. He will tell us names if we continue."

Ashe shook her head. "I cannot watch this any longer."

"I will not let him get to me, you have my word."

"You cannot kill him, Basch," she whispered, looking at him sadly, "I will not allow it. He seeks to ruin us both, and I know you want to punish him for hurting Lord Larsa."

Basch closed his eyes, trying to regain his focus. "Give me just one more hour, and I vow that I will cease my questioning after that."

"I will not spend another hour watching an old man be taken to the brink of death again and again. There must be some other way," she complained.

"One hour, majesty. I promise you I will stop in one hour," Basch urged. He met her gaze, changing the subject. "Why don't you take a guard and try speaking with Balthier? Perhaps he can fill in the missing pieces that Renot will not share."

Ashe had not even thought of such a move. "You are right. I will ask him what he knows." She did not know what she was even going to ask Balthier. She rubbed the ring on her finger unconsciously, worrying about seeing him face to face again so soon after what he had done to her.

"I strongly urge you to take a guard. You cannot be alone with him when we know nothing of how long this poison's effects last."

Ashe considered this, but she had more to ask Balthier than she wanted a guard to hear. "Of course I will," she lied. "Do not worry about me. As for your part, Basch, I want you to find out names. Information only."

He nodded, and turned back to reenter the room. As he opened the door, Ashe could see Renot staring straight at her. He was still wheezing heavily, but he almost looked like he was proud of her behavior that night. The Queen looked away and let Basch close the door behind him.

She took a deep breath and headed down to the dungeon alone. She was en route to talk with the man she cared about. The man who had been manipulated to kill her.

* * *

He didn't know how long he'd been napping, but he heard the door to the dungeon open and soft footsteps. "Ah, Penelo," he said as he continued leaning against the bars, his back to the door, "You and Vaan talk to the princess yet?"

There was no response behind him. He turned his head then and was astonished to see Ashe standing there, looking exhausted. Her eyes were red from crying, but the remainder of her face showed no expression.

He immediately stood up and gripped the bars. Ashe turned to the guard at the door. "Leave us."

When the guard protested, she growled back at him. "He is behind bars. I do not think he will be able to harm me. Leave now." The guard shuffled away, closing the door. She remained across the room from him.

Balthier met her eyes, and they stood in silence for several long moments. Her neck was still pink, although thankfully the imprints of his fingers upon it had faded by now. He did not know what to say to her that could make up for all the wrong he had done. The silence grew uncomfortable, and Ashe finally broke the tension by looking down to her feet.

"I have a few things to ask you, Balthier," she asked quietly.

He squeezed the bars at the soft sound of her voice. She sounded utterly defeated. He loathed himself for reducing the strong woman to this. "Anything," he replied, begging her to meet his eyes again.

She didn't yet. Her eyes remained fixed on the ground as she spoke again. "Would you be able to name the people who took you?"

"Names? No, they never revealed them," he admitted sadly, "I could describe them physically if it would help."

She sighed and shook her head. "No, it's quite alright. I understand. I came here to tell you that neither you nor Fran are going to be punished for your actions. I have no intentions of holding you responsible for something beyond your control."

He snorted. "You should."

Ashe finally met his eyes. "Why? They were poisoning you."

Why was she being so forgiving? He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest as she looked at him. Even now he found her beautiful, and it would not do to be distracted by her at present. "I could have tried harder to stop myself. I could have tried not to hurt you, princess." She raised an eyebrow, and he realized his mistake. "Queen, sorry. Takes some getting used to."

She stepped a bit closer to him, and his pulse continued to race. He remembered their encounters in his dreams, and he thought back to the brutal kiss they had shared before he tried to…

It was now his turn to look away from her. "I'm not sure," she replied, "Months of this treatment could break anyone. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I have everything to apologize for," he replied, scraping the floor with his boot. He could smell her perfume, the sweet floral aroma entering his nostrils. It calmed him as he recognized its scent from their months of journeying together. It was familiar and comforting.

She stood only a few feet away from him now, and he could tell she would not yet get within arm's reach. He felt that she was making a wise decision. Although he felt no impulse whatsoever to harm her, he could not say the same for other impulses that were making themselves known in his head. "Larsa has been deciphering your father's documents," she said. "Maybe he will be able to determine a way to reverse any permanent damage."

Her words startled him then. What did his father have to do with this plotting? He looked back at her. "What do you mean Cid's documents?"

Ashe gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth suddenly. "Oh gods, of course you wouldn't know." He urged her to continue. "It appears that your kidnappers used a formula your father devised to coerce you. Larsa was transcribing his personal papers since they were in some form of cipher. Maybe there is a cure mentioned in them."

As if this whole situation wasn't irritating enough, even his father played a part in turning him against Ashe. He sighed resignedly, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the cell bars. "Of course. One cannot escape Cidolfus Bunansa even in death."

She reached a hand out tentatively, wrapping it around one of his hands that clutched the bars. "Balthier, I'm sorry." They returned to silence then, he with his head against the bars and she with her hand clutching his.

* * *

The old man was brought back up out of the water. "The Margrace family is the true heir to the Dynast-King. That boy in Archades and this naïve fool of a queen are too weak."

Basch scowled at Renot Margrace as he revealed his motivations for the plot against Ashe and Larsa. He continued his mutterings as he caught his breath. "Ivalice needs strong leadership. A single authority, not some council of imbeciles who would cater to the needs of the weak of Ivalice. House Margrace would be that authority."

Basch scoffed at the old man's arrogance. "Ivalice has changed. You would assassinate a woman and a child to justify Rozarria's need to rule?"

Renot smiled at him. "We do what we must." Basch nodded and the guards forced the man beneath the tub's water once more. After a few seconds, Basch had them take Renot back out. The old man's chest heaved, but he continued to be amused at the events taking place.

"What I would especially like to know," Basch continued, grasping the old man by his wet hair and forcing him to meet his eyes, "is why you didn't simply assassinate the Queen and Lord Larsa with your own agents? What was the point of all this needless trickery?"

The old man spat water onto Basch's face. "With Archadia vanquished and under new leadership, Rozarria couldn't simply step in and conquer them right away. Public opinion would not be behind an assassination by Rozarrian agents. No, but if a third party suddenly extinguished the lives of these new leaders, there would be a power vacuum in Ivalice."

"And Rozarria would be there to conquer them in the guise of a benevolent savior," Basch replied.

The old man nodded. "But of course. Simply ingenious."

"Very," Basch muttered. He glared at the old man once more. "Names, Renot."

The old man laughed, and Basch gestured for the guards to continue their watery punishment.

* * *

Ashe gripped Balthier's hand as he sighed. If only she had broken the news of his father's involvement more gently. But what other way could she have mentioned it? She knew she shouldn't be in here alone with him after the night's events, much less be holding his hand, but she could not dissuade herself.

Having vividly imagined Balthier by her side all these months, she felt strangely calmed by his presence. Where he had seemed like himself before he attacked her, she now knew that the nearly broken man standing before her was the true Balthier she had fallen for. She did not know what to say to continue their conversation. He did not know the names of his captors, so she had no reason to remain there. She felt her hand grow clammy as she held onto his. He must be able to hear how loudly my heart is pounding, she thought, feeling incredibly jumpy by being so close to him.

"I can decipher them," he muttered, not moving his head from where it rested against the cold metal.

"Wh-what?" she stammered in surprise. Don't let him notice how I stare at him, she prayed.

He raised his head then, and there was some recognition in his eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking. But he did not make a cheeky remark as she expected. "Cid's papers. His cipher isn't so hard to break. I thought it the ultimate rebellious act in my youth to snatch his papers from his study and try cracking his code. Never thought it would come back to haunt me like this."

"You mean you would be willing to decipher them? Maybe you could determine an antidote faster than Larsa can," she replied, trying to slip her hand away from his without raising his suspicions.

He stood up straight, letting his hands drop from the bars. "Well I imagine Larsa doesn't have everything he needs. I know where Cid kept all his papers at home. There may be more to this than what Larsa already is deciphering."

"I will have you go to Archades with Basch. You can work on them there, and you can see Fran," she offered.

She could see Balthier's spirits rise considerably at that idea. He looked at her sincerely, a smile crossing his face. "I would appreciate that, Highness. Thank you."

"I wish I could come along, but with the conference and now whatever agreements we will have to work out with Rozarria…"

"No, of course not. I will be sure to do my utmost to irritate Basch during my visit," he replied with a grin. She smiled in return, and they now enjoyed a much more comfortable silence. He changed the topic. "Things seem to be well in Dalmasca, all things considered. I'm happy for you."

She blushed slightly. "Yes, I feel that peace is still within our grasp. I'm very proud of the progress we've made these past few months."

He looked into her eyes then. "It is so good to see you." The sincerity of his words made her feel like her stomach was twisting itself into knots. She knew that if she had blushed before, she was now a shade of red heretofore unknown.

"I really missed you," she began, "Now this will sound strange…" Oh gods, was she really going to tell him this?

He nodded his head for her to continue. She stepped closer to him so she could speak quietly, even though no one else was in earshot. "I found myself thinking of you constantly…not in a lewd way!" she exclaimed as he grinned at her admission. "More like I imagined you here with me at the palace, making comments on my day to day activities. I just felt better imagining that you were here causing a ruckus."

He smiled at what she told him. "I am glad that I was a part of your life even in my absence. You were kind enough to visit my thoughts as well." He looked away then, leaving her to wonder at just exactly what he must have been thinking of her. This only made her more embarrassed, but her mind was buzzing with this new knowledge. She decided then to be bold.

Ashe reached for his face and grasped his cheek. She had done so earlier that evening, but the situation was now far different. He was surprised at first by her initiative, but he allowed his body to relax at her touch. She took a deep breath. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

She could feel his breath quickening as he searched her face. "What is it?" he asked, no trace of his usual cockiness apparent.

Just ask him, Ashe. Ask him. She steeled herself and decided to let the fates determine the outcome of her query. "Tonight when we were in my room…"

He inhaled sharply at the path of the conversation, but she tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry, when we were…what I'm trying to ask is…"

She leaned as close to him as the metal bars would allow, and he did the same. Where before she had been intimidated and rightfully so by what she had seen in his eyes, she now saw only desire. It excited her, and she was determined to finish her question. "Was kissing me part of the manipulation?"

He was startled by the question, dropping his eyes from her face. She wouldn't let him avoid her, tipping his chin back up to look at her. "Ashe," he said quietly. He reached a hand through the bars to lightly brush her bare arm. His touch sent shivers up her spine. "I am not sure if I understand what you are asking me," he breathed, their bodies close enough that she felt his breath on her face.

Her lips trembled, her mind grinding to a halt. She could not focus when he was there staring a hole through her with those eyes. He must possess some sort of mystical power that turned young women into mute idiots, she thought as his eyes darted between her eyes and her lips. Luckily for her he seemed as flustered as she. She finally found words. "If you had not been manipulated, would you still have kissed me tonight?"

He leaned forward then, and she closed her eyes. She felt his breath hot against her face, his lips so very close to her own. She swallowed, feeling like the room was spinning around.

A grinding noise interrupted the moment, and Basch appeared suddenly at the door. Ashe and Balthier jumped apart immediately, embarrassed. Ashe felt the disapproval in Basch's eyes cutting her like a dagger. She tried to regain her composure, but she could tell by her heavy breathing that Basch was no fool and could see right through her. Luckily enough, he chose not to mention the compromising situation he saw before him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Highness. Renot Margrace has finally relented and given the names of his conspirators," the knight said, choosing instead to glare at Balthier.

Ashe heard Balthier shift his weight to another foot behind her, shuffling uncomfortably under Basch's gaze. "Thank you, Basch," she said shakily, "We will take this up with the Rozarrian delegation immediately."

She moved to follow Basch from the room. "Your Majesty," Balthier interrupted from behind her. She would not turn to look at him, but she felt her stomach do a flip as he answered her question. "The answer is yes. Yes, I would have."

Ashe hurried past Basch, not wishing for him to see the enormous smile that now plastered her face.


	11. Cure

"Then all of House Margrace is corrupt. I beg your forgiveness, Queen Ashelia. They have ruled us all with an iron grip for so many years. To question them was to question Rozarria itself."

Ashe met with the Rozarrian delegation, who had just been informed of House Margrace's plot against herself and Larsa Solidor. The surprise and anger in the faces of the Rozarrians told her that they truly had not known about the treachery. Basch stood by her side while the parties met, but he had yet to speak to her. Balthier was innocent of his crimes, but Ashe knew that Basch disapproved of her actions in the dungeon. It gnawed at the back of her mind as she negotiated with the delegates.

"Renot Margrace has named all that were involved in this plot," Basch noted, looking to the startled delegates. "It is the hope of Archadia and Dalmasca that Rozarria will purge itself of these violent fiends and continue working for peace."

The leading Rozarrian diplomat nodded. "We thank you for informing us of this in such a respectful manner. You are well within your rights to declare war against us. We cannot imagine the suffering you now endure because of that wretched family. We did not even know the fate of Al-Cid."

"He was ally to Dalmasca all along," Ashe replied sadly, "We hope that the peace Al-Cid fought for will be taken up now by a new ruling house. One that will not be swayed by greed and petty desires for power."

The diplomat nodded vigorously. "Allow me to personally return to Rozarria with that fiendish Renot and as many of your own soldiers as you deem appropriate. We will rid our country of those filthy cowards, and we want Ivalice to know that their actions do not speak for all of Rozarria."

Ashe shook the delegates' hands and left Tylo to finalize the details with the Rozarrian diplomats. She and Basch left the room, moving to the corridor. The knight was silent, but she could see disapproval in his eyes. "You are angry with me," she uttered softly.

"Angry?" he replied, "Your Majesty's skillful handling of this situation has avoided costly war, and we will see a power change in Rozarria that benefits all of Ivalice. Why would I have any anger towards you?"

She looked up at him, knowing that he was masking any disapproval. A knight would not openly judge a Queen's behavior. "I know you are upset that I met with Balthier alone. I also know that you disapprove of any relationship I might pursue with him." Basch stayed silent, his loyalty to her covering his disappointment, but she still knew what he was thinking.

She decided to shift the conversation slightly. "You may think whatever you wish. But I would ask that you escort him to Archades to assist Larsa in deciphering Dr. Cid's papers. He has offered his help, and he longs to determine if there is an antidote to whatever he and Fran were subjected to."

Basch nodded curtly. "Very well. I will prepare our airship to leave for Archades at your command." He turned away from her and began to walk away. She called for him once more.

"Basch." He stood still, awaiting her words. "Thank you. For everything you have done for me. I thank you."

He took his leave, marching toward the dungeon to have Balthier removed from custody. Ashe turned to rejoin Tylo and the delegation, but a guard raced up.

"Majesty, I am terribly sorry," the man said, nearly out of breath.

"Be calm. What has happened?" Ashe could see disappointment in the man's eyes as he struggled to regain his composure.

"It's Renot Margrace, my lady. He's dead."

* * *

Balthier had been placed in restraints, and he now sat aboard an airship bound for Archades. Basch had not said a word since removing him from the dungeon in Rabanastre. Balthier knew exactly why Basch was being less than talkative, and the knight was probably well within his rights to feel that way.

What had happened between him and Ashe in the dungeon a few hours past confounded the sky pirate. He had tried to kill her earlier that night, but in that prison cell she had trusted him, believed that he would not harm her. How am I to know for sure that I won't try killing her again? The effects of the poison may have worn off, but the gods only knew if he had been conditioned to attack her at a later time if his first attempt was unsuccessful. What irritated Balthier most at present was that he would have to rely upon the words of Doctor Cid if he was to discover an end to this madness.

"How soon will I be able to pore over the old man's documents?" he inquired, trying to get Basch to say something. The silence in the airship cabin was unnerving. The tension could be sliced through with a dull sword.

Basch shifted in his seat, not meeting Balthier's eyes. "Her majesty suggested that we bring you and Fran to the palace hospital for tests first. Just to make sure you are not a threat."

"And she would be making a wise choice," Balthier offered in agreement, hoping that the other man would continue. Basch finally turned to look at him, showing very little expression.

"After you and Fran are admitted, we can bring the documents to you. You will be kept in comfort, and while you decipher, the Archadian staff will see what they can do in the event that an antidote is not discovered," the knight explained.

Balthier could not argue with that. Months of captivity were hell for him, but it wouldn't hurt to endure a little more if there was some light at the end of the tunnel for him and Fran. Basch leaned forward in his seat, close enough to be out of the earshot of the pilot and other soldiers.

"What are your intentions toward the Queen?" he asked bluntly, staring him straight in the face.

Balthier was not at all shocked by the question. Frankly, he had expected Basch to ask him that the second he sprung him from the palace dungeon. He considered the question, not altogether sure himself what his intentions were yet. "I don't intend to cause a fuss if that's what you're implying." At the very least, he wouldn't back down without a challenge.

"Balthier, you will forgive my suspicions, but how can I not question you? You nearly killed her, but now attempt seduction. I cannot approve of your actions in good conscience and call myself a friend to her majesty."

"You know something of being held captive, Basch, do you not?" The knight lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment, allowing him to continue. "As a captive, I was being indoctrinated to harm someone I care a great deal for. And over that time I came to realize just how much I cared about her, and how it would kill me to cause her any pain. I wish only for her happiness now that this plot has been uncovered."

"She cannot become entangled with a sky pirate, hero of the Bahamut or not. You know this to be true. The Queen has a duty to her people," Basch replied.

Balthier rolled his eyes at Basch's answer. "Why don't we let the Queen decide what entanglements she wants?"

Basch sighed and shook his head. "Her purpose in this world is greater than yours or mine, Balthier. I will not see Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca treated as a common harlot to be discarded when you run off on a treasure hunt."

"You think that is all this is to me? A conquest?" Balthier exclaimed, his voice rising sharply. "You know nothing of what I feel for her."

The knight sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know what she must be to Dalmasca. All I advise, Balthier, is to remember who she is. It has become clear that I can dissuade neither of you."

Balthier settled down, an uneasy truce formed between the two men. During their journey together, the pirate had thought the idea of a relationship with Ashe so far fetched that he had not considered just how inappropriate it would be were it to become reality. And even after all he had done, she still clearly wanted him. Her actions in the dungeon had made that crystal clear to him.

Either way, he had a stay of undetermined length to look forward to in Archades, so it was unlikely that there would be any sort of resolution to his situation with Ashe any time soon. He decided instead to focus on what was of greater import: rejoining Fran and finding a way to rid themselves of the months of damage the poisonous injections had caused them.

* * *

Ashe stared at the old man's lifeless form, still propped up in his chair beside the basin of water. "What happened here?" she asked.

The guard was nearly shaking in embarrassment, but the Queen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder to steady him. "I'm sorry, my lady. He said he had medicine in his belongings that he needed to take. I thought that since he told Judge Gabranth everything that it would be cruel to deprive him of it now."

Suicide pills, Ashe surmised. She shook her head at the guard. "It isn't your fault. I would have done the same. He could manipulate anyone to do his bidding."

Minister Echarna stood beside the Rozarrian's body, barely holding his rage inside him. Ashe knew that Tylo had known Renot for years, and she understood the grief and anger he felt. Ashe dismissed the guard, and she approached her minister.

"He could not live in a world without war, Tylo," she said sadly as the older man gazed at the man he had considered an ally.

"Then good riddance," Tylo replied. "Ivalice needs more leaders like yourself, highness. My generation knew only preparations for the battlefield and conquest, but I would never have imagined him capable of all this. I should not have been so willing to let him into your council so easily."

Ashe looked at her trusted advisor, and she was saddened by the betrayal she saw written in the lines around his eyes. "He acted a friend to all of us, Tylo," she reassured him. "We are fortunate that his plot was revealed, and we can peaceably rid the world of all those who conspired along with him."

Tylo sighed. "You know they will all kill themselves, majesty. They are cowards and will not suffer a trial for a cause they believed to be just."

Ashe knew that he was absolutely right. "Then we must simply have faith in the Rozarrian people to recover. It is all we can do."

They left the room to return to the Rozarrian delegation with the news.

* * *

A cold examination room at the palace was the first sight Balthier enjoyed of Archades. The sky pirate knew that Draklor was better equipped for these sorts of examinations, but he imagined Larsa had wanted them sequestered in the palace for the duration of his visit. He imagined the streetears were having a field day with all the gossip surrounding his and Fran's actions, if the whisperings amongst the palace servants were anything to go on. Several teams of physicians ran numerous tests, and it made Balthier feel like a laboratory animal. But if he and Fran were to reenter free society, it was just something to endure. After the day's battery of tests, he was brought to a comfortable room.

It was opulently appointed, and Balthier was amused at how he was suddenly so highly regarded. They had taken off his restraints, and he walked to the window. The bright evening lights of Archades glared back at him, and several small air cabs zoomed around the capital. It had only been a few short days ago that the only sights available were the prison barracks of Onzale. He almost missed the marching laborers' slow shuffle, but he shook his head at the memory of his imprisonment. Balthier was itching to get this all over with quickly so he could take to the skies once more. He felt like he would go mad if he was incarcerated another day.

There was a knock at the door, and Basch and several other guards appeared. "You have a visitor," the knight said coolly. Fran was held in restraints and ushered into the room. Balthier met her eyes, and he saw hers widen at the sight of him after all these months. His last conscious memory of his partner was carrying her through the crashing Bahamut, and it was unbelievable to see her again. She had lost a great deal of weight during her captivity and bore several cuts on her arms and legs. Not from her capture in Archades, Balthier reckoned, but from the long journey from Onzale.

Basch ordered the guards to remove the restraints. The guards hesitated, and Basch sighed and undid the restraints himself. "You will have some time to converse, and then I am afraid I will have to bring her back to her own room. I'm sorry."

Fran nodded, and Basch and the guards departed. They stood there for a few moments, neither knowing what exactly to say. He trusted Fran like no other, and so much of what they communicated went unspoken. She rubbed her wrists, grateful for the removal of the restraints. Despite her injuries, Fran was as noble and composed as ever. But Balthier was not and he rushed across the room impulsively, enveloping his friend in a tight squeeze.

"I know you aren't much for open displays of affection, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you," he told her. He actually could not recall hugging Fran like this before, and he was surprised at her tolerance.

She touched his face gently, her long graceful fingers stroking his skin. "I will allow it this time. I am overjoyed to see you again as well, Balthier."

The friends broke apart after a moment, and he flopped down into a cushiony chair and urged her to join him. "Look at us, Fran. Even with an assassination attempt under each of our belts, here we sit in this dratted capital in the lap of luxury."

She smirked at him and sat primly in a chair beside him. "You've only just arrived. I've had the pleasure of living in the palace dungeon until today."

"There's the viera I've missed all this time. I don't know if Basch…oh pardon me, Judge Gabranth has informed you of my purpose here," he said, leaning back and placing his feet up on a small ottoman.

"He mentioned that some documents of Dr. Cid's may hold the key to our recovery," she answered, staring pointedly at his relaxed posture in spite of everything.

"So it would appear. But it is my feeling that it will be difficult to uncover. If they wanted us to kill our friends, then I don't see why it was necessary to have a cure for the indoctrination. They knew we'd be executed if successful," he replied, leaning back and closing his eyes.

The viera shifted in the chair. "That was also my belief. I also wonder if there is a universal treatment since we obviously behaved differently with the same injections."

He shook his head. "I don't see why we need to worry about that now. Can't we just enjoy one another's company? I haven't seen you in months, and we have some catching up to do."

His partner rose from her seat and poured them each a glass of water from a pitcher on a side table. She rejoined him and sipped her drink, but she was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something in between my teeth?" he asked her, but she was still considering him. He grew a bit more exasperated with his friend. Clearly she knew something but was unsure of how to broach the topic. Diplomatic to the living end, Fran was.

She finally let her eyes fall on his fingers. "You wear the Queen's ring on your own hand."

Balthier immediately placed his other hand on top of it without thinking. "I just don't want to lose it is all. She'll have my head if it gets lost. I promised to give it back when I found a greater treasure."

Fran raised her eyebrows at his explanation, and he knew she had figured him out. Damn that viera intuition. She said nothing else, but he could almost hear her brain working on the repercussions of a potential relationship between himself and the Queen. He decided to save her the trouble.

"It's not what you think. It would never work between us. I did just try to kill her you know," he offered, but he could see her biting back a smile.

"If that isn't a prelude to romance…" Fran interrupted, taking another sip of water coyly.

He shook his head vehemently. "She has a country to run, and I have treasures to acquire. We'll get back to our profession as soon as we are cured, I promise."

"Your eyes betray your heart, as they always do," Fran remarked as there was a rap at the door, and Basch reentered.

"I'm sorry, it's time," the knight apologized, and the viera rose from her seat. Balthier nodded in farewell. Basch had a collection of papers with him, and he set them down on the table. "At your convenience. These were taken from Dr. Cid's study and match some of the documents Larsa was working with. They were right where you said they could be found."

Balthier thanked Basch, and the other man departed with Fran. The sky pirate sat up and looked through the scribbling. Damn you, old man. Moments from his youth reentered his mind as he recalled hunkering down in a corner, reading about nethicite and other insidious items he didn't fully understand. Back then it was to protest the man's growing aloofness and insanity and maybe to regain his father's attention. Now it was to hopefully return his own life to normal. The code was the same as it had always been, and Balthier resigned himself to his transcribing. It would be a long night ahead.

* * *

It had been a few weeks since the chaotic events in Rabanastre. Ashe was cheered to learn that Rozarria had not erupted into civil war. Remarkably, the head of the Margrace family had voluntarily stepped down from his throne. The loss of his son Al-Cid had apparently been the final straw for him, and he could no longer tolerate aspirations of conquest.

Several conspirators had taken their own lives, but a joint tribunal of the Rozarrian, Dalmascan and Archadian militaries now tried those who remained alive for treason and conspiracy. Another family, the Giessers, had stepped in to rule temporarily, but Ashe was happy to hear that there would be formal elections amongst the aristocrats to choose a new leading family in a month or two. There was even discussion of a new constitution in Rozarria to prevent one family from seizing too much power.

The Onzale prison camp and others like it had been thoroughly inspected, and all the illegally held prisoners were released. The doctors who had experimented on her friends had been captured and thoroughly questioned, but it appeared they did not know of any antidote to their treatments.

As for Rabanastre, the conference continued on for a third week. A logical and effective charter for a peace council was still a distant goal, but even with the diplomatic snafu at the coronation, all parties involved were working well together. The negotiations were to continue until a charter was agreed upon, and from there, formal meetings of peace would be scheduled. Ashe had argued personally against having Rabanastre as the central seat of a world council. She instead pleaded for a moving council so that one place would not have more authority than another. It had been written into the charter that the council would move to another city each year, and many had admired Ashe's decision to avoid yet another potential conflict.

As for the Queen herself, she had received periodic updates from Basch and Larsa regarding their friends. Larsa, who had nearly recovered fully from his attack, had worked together with Balthier. Just a few days prior, they had uncovered some means of reversal. Dr. Cid had scrawled some formula on the back of a discarded paper, but it was successfully transcribed and determined to be a potential cure. The Archadian doctors had cautioned that it would take several painful injections to counteract the original brainwashing, but it was the best chance they had of a full cure.

Ashe did not want her friends to endure any more pain, but if it meant their freedom, she knew they would agree to the injections. The Queen had been so busy with the conference and the Rozarrian business that she'd had very little time to think of her last meeting with Balthier. She knew she had been exhausted that night by the time she was alone with him in the dungeon, but Ashe knew that she had wanted to kiss him. And from there, who knew.

She was eating dinner alone in her chambers when one of her ladies in waiting entered. "Message for you from Archades, my lady."

Ashe took the scroll and allowed the young woman to clear her place. She unraveled the scroll and recognized Basch's handwriting. As she read it over, she found it very hard to hold in a smile, and she could imagine the look of annoyance on Basch's face as he wrote to her.

_Majesty,_

_The doctors have determined that any physician can administer the injections to Balthier and Fran. Larsa has given his consent for the two to relocate to Rabanastre for the duration of their treatments. Their official excuse is that they want to work on their airship before they depart for their 'treasure hunting', and since it is in Rabanastre's aerodrome, it would be sensible for them to go there rather than have the airship brought to them._

_I cannot in good conscience throw my support behind Lord Larsa's decision, but it has been made clear to me that my input is not really required in this matter. I advise your majesty to simply let them be cured and to let them leave. They no longer pose a threat to you, but let me remind you that there are more threats to your majesty's person than bodily harm. Forgive my coarseness. They should arrive in Rabanastre the day after tomorrow. Be well._

Ashe was thoroughly excited at the thought of Balthier and Fran's return. She had not yet seen the viera, and she longed to chat with her. As for Fran's partner, the Queen was very much uneasy at the thought of him wandering her palace grounds for real. Would she be able to keep away from him? Would she want to? Ashe could no longer concentrate, feeling butterflies in her stomach at the thought of Balthier. This time he would not need to be restrained behind iron bars. They could…they could…

The Queen was jittery at the myriad ways to finish that thought, and she downed an entire glass of Bhujerban madhu. Bed. Now, Ashe. She changed into her nightgown and lay down under the blankets. She hoped for some excuse to remain at the chartering sessions all day so she wouldn't be distracted, but she knew it was going to be impossible.


	12. Resolution

The desert heat warmed Balthier's skin as the Archadian ship dropped him and Fran off at the royal palace. The viera had dared to chuckle at his nervous behavior on the flight over from Archades. He was awed by her suggestion to move their treatments to Dalmasca, but he could not think of a clever enough reason against it in time. He was incredulous at his partner's not so subtle attempts at matchmaking.

They had been cleared for travel by the Archadian doctors, and neither of them had felt any impulses out of their control for several weeks now. They had received their first curative injections before they departed, and Balthier's arm still ached like it was on fire. Fran did not outwardly appear to be in any pain, but Balthier was always the more demonstrative of the pair.

Ashe's minister still seemed to regard them with some measure of disdain, and not without reason, as he escorted them to rooms in a more deserted area of the palace. They may have been on the road to recovery, but their reputation as sky pirates was not endearing them to Ashe's cabinet. They were to have escorts to other parts of the palace and to the aerodrome, just in case they were interested in absconding with some of the palace's trinkets.

Balthier wanted nothing more than to grab a tool kit and assess whatever travesties had befallen the Strahl under Vaan's watch, but he was to attend supper with the queen shortly. He and Fran were acknowledged as the heroes of Rabanastre, and Ashe had released an official decree that they were innocent of their crimes. Her minister gave the impression that the people were more than willing to forgive them, but their chosen careers were not exactly approved of by the powers that be.

He did his best to settle in, but a palace doctor arrived then to administer the next dosage of the antidote. Balthier rubbed his arm at the memory of the last shot, and he just wished he could get them all in one overloaded injection, but the Archadian physician had laughed at that suggestion. The sky pirate rolled up his shirt sleeve and tried to focus on the various portraits of House Dalmasca that decorated the walls rather than the uncomfortably long needle that was about to pierce his flesh.

The pain was sharp, and the doctor did not have much of a bedside manner. He unstuck the needle from Balthier's arm, gathered his supplies and left the room immediately thereafter. He rolled his sleeve back down and decided to compose a list of improvements he would make to the Strahl as soon as he stole it back from Vaan. A servant arrived moments later to escort him to the dining hall. It would be his first time seeing Ashe again after their last encounter, and he hoped that he wouldn't do anything too stupid this time around.

* * *

"And she had this strange habit of spitting on her helmet. I could never get a word in edgewise with all the saliva flying about," Balthier remarked, and Ashe laughed heartily. Although their captivity had been arduous, the sky pirate and viera both had some fond memories of their prison guards. Balthier had mentioned that one of the guards, Captain Losrin, had died trying to save him, and they toasted her memory that night in gratitude for her sacrifice.

The three friends sat together in the dining hall, reminiscing about their journey across Ivalice, some pirate humor, and an escalating but not so serious argument about Balthier taking Vaan on as an apprentice sky pirate. Fran argued in the young man's favor while Balthier protested until he was red in the face. Since none of her ministers were monitoring her activities this evening, Ashe relaxed and allowed herself to indulge a bit. However, she was very quickly realizing that she could not hold her liquor like a seasoned pirate. While her dinner companions engaged in lively, but lucid conversation, they drank several tankards of ale between the two of them. Ashe had tried to keep up, but the room was getting a bit hazy, and everything that came out of Balthier's mouth seemed to be the peak of comedy.

Ashe knew if she stood up from her seat then that she would probably fall over, but it would be unbefitting of a Queen to be openly intoxicated in front of her dinner guests. She tried to drink water, but it wasn't helping as Balthier shoved another tankard in front of her. "Loosen up, Ashe! Peace in Ivalice, and Fran and I are almost free to carry on plundering the citizens of the world!"

The Queen giggled at the remark, although some part of her brain knew it wasn't exactly funny to joke about theft. She raised the tankard to her lips and tried not to drink too fast while Fran related a humorous story of a Bhujerban man who had once attempted to woo her and failed miserably. It took her several moments to realize that Balthier was trying to address her when Fran was done sharing her story.

She leaned forward with her elbows on the table, propping her head up on her hands. "What was that, Balthier?" she inquired, her words slurring together in a very improper fashion.

"I said we were going to retire for the evening. Fran and I have an entire day full of injections to look forward to tomorrow," he repeated, staring at her with a twinkle in his eye. How late was it? Hadn't they just sat down? Obviously not, she discovered, noticing the number of empty tankards arranged at the end of the table.

"We'll have to do this again, your Highness," Fran said politely, rising from her seat with her usual grace. Balthier stood as well, although he seemed a bit shakier. It appeared that his composure at the table was a ruse, and he was probably as gone as Ashe was. The viera bowed politely and gave Balthier a look Ashe could not decipher before she departed.

The pirate shuffled around the table to stand next to her. He bent forward, turning his head to meet her eye level as she continued to lean on the table. "Shall I have a guard carry you out, Ashe? Or can you walk?"

How rude of him. Could she walk? Of course she could walk! She was Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, and she could do anything. "No, I don't need to be carried," she muttered as she tried to pull herself out of the seat. It wasn't the easiest task. He offered her his hand, but she waved him off. "The Queen can leave the dining room of her own accord!"

She stood then and with one hand firmly planted on the table, she met Balthier's eyes in triumph. His face was a glowing pink from drinking, and he wore his usual cocky grin. He chuckled at her. "If you can leave of your own accord, then why don't you let go of the table?"

He was infuriating. I'll show him, she thought proudly, and she turned around to face away from him. She let go of the table and tried to march away from him, but she had moved a bit quicker than she intended. As her knees wobbled, he walked up behind her and was bold enough to put his arms around her, settling his hands on her hips.

"Don't fall now," he whispered into her ear, his chest pressed up against her back. This was very wrong, Ashe thought. All of that ale had been a foolish decision, but the still functioning part of her brain wasn't entirely dissatisfied with how he held her. She mustered up whatever courage she had left and turned around in his arms.

She stared up into his face defiantly. Her heart was racing like it had that night in the dungeon, but this time there were no bars and definitely no Basch. She got up on her tiptoes to reward the pirate with a kiss, but he turned his head aside, and she ended up leaving a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"You're….you…" she slurred, "You're the one who grabbed me, pirate!"

He leaned back from her, still offering some means of support but no longer embracing her. "You've had a few too many tonight, Highness. I think it's best we sleep on it."

Her eyes widened at the suggestion inherent in his phrasing, and Balthier looked almost ill at his slip up. "I mean, it is best that we sleep on it in separate places."

She laughed so hard she thought she would be sick all over his fine vest. He laughed along with her, and it just felt wonderful to be alone and comfortable with him, even if the room was making her dizzy. "Could you just walk with me? I don't want the guards to think something's wrong."

He linked arms with her and whispered to her in a conspiratorial way. But since he was rather drunk himself, his attempted whisper was nearly a shout. "I don't see how we're going to convince them!"

She giggled again, and they staggered towards the door. The guards posted outside merely exchanged glances with one another as the Queen and pirate stumbled up the steps. They arrived at Ashe's chambers, and one of her maids opened the door to let her enter. "Just a moment, Laina. I have to say good night to Balthier," Ashe ordered in the most regal voice she could muster, but Balthier's laughing response told her that she had not come across as very commanding.

Laina dutifully shut the door, and Ashe turned to face the sky pirate. "The Queen bids the hero of Rabanastre a good night!" He leaned towards her, grabbing her hand. He pulled it to his mouth and planted a kiss on her palm.

"Good night, your Highness. It will be a shame for Fran and me to leave such amusing company," he replied, still holding her hand.

Ashe's mind registered his words, and her happiness faded quite a bit. "Leave? What do you mean? You just got back."

She saw him look away to focus. "After Fran and I are considered healthy, we're going to get back to work. We can't stay around here."

"But I thought we…" she began, but his refusal to meet her eyes answered the question for her. What had she been thinking? Once he was cured he would just dally about Rabanastre? Of course he couldn't just settle down. Ashe did not want to show her disappointment and opened her door. She was quickly sobering now that the thought of him going away again was at the forefront of her mind. He had been gone before, and she hadn't known if he was dead or alive, and now he was leaving of his own initiative. "I will be rather busy for the next few days. Just let me know when you and Fran are departing. You are welcome to visit Rabanastre any time."

"Ashe, wait," he said, trying to grab the door before she closed it.

She turned to face him and saw sadness in his eyes that probably mirrored her own. "Good night." She closed the door and leaned back against it. Laina said nothing as she helped the Queen dress for bed.

* * *

Tinkering with the Strahl's engines was a most welcome activity for her owner. Balthier had spent the past few days inspecting the airship for any sign of malfunction and was relieved at its condition. Vaan had surprisingly not ruined it with the exception of a stinky old satchel of food that was uncovered from one of the smuggling compartments. He and Fran had received the last dosage of their scheduled treatment that morning, and soon they would be off. Balthier had felt a small tug of remorse at Vaan's crestfallen reaction, but the young man had helped him refuel the ship and change some of its smaller parts. In exchange, Balthier promised to assist Vaan when he set about purchasing an airship of his own.

He knew that he would have to bid farewell to the Queen shortly, and Balthier was very unsure about what he would say to her. After the disastrous end to their dinner the other night he had only seen her in passing, and he had been too embarrassed to meet her eyes. It was fairly childish of him, Balthier admitted, but he couldn't stop thinking about Basch's words to him a few weeks prior. Her purpose in this world is greater, and he was determined to tell Ashe as much when he said goodbye to her. He longed to pursue something more with her, but their worlds were too disparate. It would never work. Of course it was very easy to say these things to himself, but could he look her in the eye and deny what he felt?

He would find out soon enough as Fran arrived in the hangar. Balthier wiped the engine grease from his hands with a handkerchief and met his partner at the airship's entry hatch. "A guard waits to take you to an audience with the Queen," the viera noted as she boarded.

Balthier nodded and headed for the exit, but Fran grabbed his shoulder. "I wouldn't throw this away if I were you," she warned and released him. He rolled his eyes at her advice. When was the last time Fran had fallen for royalty? It wouldn't be all sunshine and flowers.

He exited the Strahl and was escorted back to the royal palace. The sky pirate was brought to a small sitting room and could not shake the nervous feelings he felt. He paced the room, probably wearing the ornate rug down with every repetitious footstep. He practiced what to tell Ashe.

This will not work out. I am a pirate, and I delight in robbing people like yourself.

You have a country to run, and I can't sit idly by and deal with the tedium of politics.

I don't deserve you after what I've done…

The door opened and the Queen appeared. Everything Balthier rehearsed flew out of his mind at her presence, and he didn't know how he could bear to part from her. So much for "this will not work out", he mused.

She spoke first. "I want to first apologize for my behavior the other evening. I was not myself and did not respect you as my honored guest. I am sorry."

He grinned. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It was wonderful to see you so relaxed. You should come out with me and Fran some night in Balfonheim."

She blushed at the idea and looked down. "Before you leave, I think we have some things to discuss."

He longed to flee from the room, but his mouth was open and his heart pouring out before he knew what was happening. "Ashe, I think I'm in love with you," he blurted out. She looked at him in surprise, and for some reason his mouth kept running like a faucet. "And I am absolutely terrified by it. I love the chase, and I love the rewards I receive from it, but I can't say I have ever felt this way before. I feel as if I could chase you to the ends of the world and never tire."

"Balthier…" she began, walking up to him and laying a comforting hand on his arm, but now that he had started, he had to finish. He had to tell her no.

"But even though I feel this way, there is nothing to be done about it. You have Dalmasca, and I have the skies and never the twain shall meet. I am sorry." He tried to back away, but she tightened her grip on his arm.

"You think you're the only one conflicted about this?" she asked. "I know what my duties are, and I will never turn my back on my people. But what of my happiness? I know that I would be happier with you in my life than without." He looked down into her eyes and was pained by the anguish he saw in them.

He embraced her then, trying to regain his thoughts. She seemed to fit perfectly in his arms, and he now knew his heart would beat out the voice of reason. "I don't want to hurt you again. I may be cured of whatever those blasted Rozarrians did to me, but I don't think I'll ever be cured of my desire for freedom."

Ashe chuckled. "I am well aware of that, pirate. I'm not asking you to settle down. I just want you when I can have you, is that so wrong?"

He kissed the top of her head and threaded his fingers through her silky hair. "Well I can't say no to a Queen's desires, can I?" He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes, and Balthier could definitely not say no to the look she gave him. This time it was right. Their lips met, and Balthier had never felt something so right in his entire life. Falling in love with Ashe was going to make him soft, he was sure of it. He let a woman steal his heart, they would say. Some sky pirate he was!

They broke apart, and she smiled at him. "Was that so difficult?" she remarked, and reached for him again, but this time he denied her.

"You delay my departure, highness. How can I return to you if you won't let me leave?" he replied, silencing her with a finger to her lips. "I have but one request before I go."

She turned her head at a slight angle and regarded him with a wicked expression. "The Queen grants your request. You may speak."

He chuckled at her. He had no doubt that Ashe would always lord that title over him. "You might have to do something about Basch. I can see him plotting creative ways of dissolving our courtship. I would not put it past him to find some archaic Dalmascan law explicitly forbidding sky pirates to consort with queens."

He stole another kiss from her, this one far less chaste. He heard a low rumbling moan escape her, and Balthier dared to sneak a hand up the Queen's skirt to stroke her thigh. She laughed against his lips at his boldness and pushed him away before his behavior got out of hand.

She rearranged her skirt to her satisfaction and regarded him with a chastising look as she tried to regain her breath. "And Basch would not be wrong to do so. Anyhow, before you go, I thought you would be interested to know that an excavation team has discovered a Galtean-era palace in Bervenia. This has just come to my attention, so I imagine that security is still low in the area."

He was shocked. "My lady, are you encouraging me to pillage this ancient and undoubtedly educational site?"

She winked at him. "I'm just telling you what news comes to me. It is up to you to decide how to use it."

He gave her one last kiss and bowed to her. "Then I will take my leave. I hope you will grant me an audience when Fran and I return as rich as Raithwall himself." She laughed, and he walked away with a grin plastered across his face.

* * *

When he reached the Strahl, Fran rolled her eyes at his gleeful expression. He would have expected no less from his best friend. "Do we have a destination?" she inquired as the ship prepared to depart the aerodrome.

"I hear Bervenia is lovely this time of year," he said, flipping a few switches on the console.

"You are distracted. Is it the Queen?" Fran asked nonchalantly.

"Mind your own business, Fran. You know I cannot kiss and tell."

His partner groaned at his behavior. "If you crash the Strahl because your mind is elsewhere I dare say it is my business." He chuckled at Fran's annoyance, and he went through the final check before takeoff.

"Forgetting something?" she asked. Balthier looked at the console. Everything appeared in good order. They had been cleared by the aerodrome for departure, and all systems were functioning. He looked beneath the panel and gave Fran a puzzled stare. She pointed to his hand. "Maybe you should give it back?"

Of course, Ashe's ring! He bolted from the seat and yelled behind his shoulder for Fran to shut off the engines. "It'll only take a minute!" he cried and fumbled around in his cabin for something to write with. He scribbled a message and dropped it into a small leather pouch along with the ring.

Balthier hurried into the aerodrome where Vaan and Penelo had been watching them prepare to take-off. He raced up to the children and pushed the pouch into Penelo's hand. "Give this to our queen for me, would you?"

Penelo looked to him in surprise. "What is it?"

Balthier sighed in annoyance. "Ashe will know. Just give it to her, alright?"

Penelo and Vaan exchanged a knowing look and acknowledged his request. They bid him farewell and scampered off. The sky pirate returned to the cockpit and saw Fran shaking her head in amusement. "Let's be off!" he remarked cheerfully and the Strahl rocketed off into the sunny desert skies.

* * *

Ashe stood on her balcony facing the aerodrome. She saw the Strahl fly off in search of adventure, and she smiled happily. Everything was going to be alright. There was peace in Ivalice, and peace in her heart. She heard excited feet running behind her, and she saw Vaan and Penelo being escorted into her chambers.

She greeted her friends, and Penelo handed her a small leather pouch. "What's this?" Ashe inquired.

Penelo shook her head. "Just something Balthier asked me to give you."

What did he want now? "Do you know what it is?"

Vaan shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. He said you'd know what it was."

"Can't he deliver his own mail?" Ashe asked no one in particular. The children said their goodbyes and hurried off as quickly as they'd arrived. Ashe longed to have an ounce of their boundless energy.

The Queen untied the pouch's string and dumped out its contents into her palm. It was Rasler's wedding band. Why would he give it back now, she wondered. She saw a note fluttering to the ground and picked it up.

_Ashe,_

_I said I'd return this when I found a better treasure, and I have._

The Queen rolled her eyes at his message. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to tell him about the discovery in Bervenia. But she could see the writing continued onto the other side.

_It's you._

_Love, Your Leading Man_

She groaned outwardly at the message, but inside she felt like she would burst with joy. She returned the ring and its note to the leather pouch. The Queen of Dalmasca could not mask her smile as she watched the Strahl become a distant speck on the horizon.

Her leading man indeed.

The End

* * *

A/N: Woohoo! It's over! Thanks to everyone for your encouragement with my very first story. Your support kept me going through the entire process. By the by, I'm planning a sequel of sorts to this story, but it's still in the early planning stages. But you can all look forward to more of this universe if you liked it. Thanks again! 


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